The Way of The Warrior
by Ethenigma
Summary: An impeccable duty.... An immaculate man.... An impossible love.... This is Bushido. The Way of The Warrior. [Rating may change...]
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 10 is short . . . It is another interchapter. It will most likely be the last short chapter unless otherwise happens, since I know that many of you do not like short chapters, but I did it for a reason... It is just like chapter 5... Everything will be revealed gradually. I've tried to be ever so sublte about it. But expect the last chapter flashback (15 if you haven't noticed the pattern yet) to reveal the truth about the past year. Caution, heavy angst to come up soon.**

**I've voided out meticulous use of Japanese terms in order to give a better understanding to those who do not know of the Japanese culture. Though some will remain in the cases of necessity.**

**Disclaimer for the rest of the story/novel: I do not own Gundam SEED or Destiny.**

**The Way of The Warrior**

by

Ethereal Enigma

**First and Final Author's Note**

_I would like to thank all those who read this story._

_Hountouni Arigatou_

**Prologue**

The waning days of February signaled the fast approaching cherry blossom season of the sakura trees. A fertile peace birthing in a new age of peace in the infant days of spring. The fierce remnants of the wintry wind blew through a young man's tattered kimono as he felt a cool sensation run like ice water in his veins. A small reflex shiver shook his flimsy physique. The dull grey color, poor cotton fabric and lack of _kamon_ or family crests on his clothing identified him as a child of low class. If the clothes did not give his status away, his worn _tabi_ filled with large holes showing the ends of his toes surely did while his worn-out _waraji_ matched the decrepit theme of his attire.

By far, he was not of any honorable titles, opulent assets, or imperial nobility. There was hardly anything that he could call his own. He was nothing but a mere boy to those around him, just another living creature that was born, grew up, grew old, and died. In the eyes of many, he was not special, not brave, and especially--not _samurai._ But for the many things he was not, he was surely a kindhearted individual from the depths of his heart. A kind and gentle benevolence emanated from his soul that readily embraced all those willing to blind blindness.

He was Kira Yamato. A Japanese _akyuudo_ of the Edo Era. A simple merchant boy by trade in the Plant city of Junius Five. A forsaken child shunned out by the blindness of those of higher class. He belonged to the fourth lowest class in the social hierarchy of feudal Japan--second to only the _burakumin_ or _eta_ who worked with the corpses of humans and animals alike. His birth was an enigma in its own rights while the past of the youth remained a mystery to even he himself. All he knew was that he lived to serve and even if he was mediocre in essence, his life was not meaningless.

During the day, he was a servant in the noble house of one of the great _daimyos_ of the land, Siegel Clyne, Lord of Plant. By night, he was a merchant of the Junius harbor cunningly getting by life with lower than meager standards. Years of struggle, trials, and tribulations shaped the boy in ways that never showed to others. No one took notice of the boy, unless an offense was committed that is. Orphaned at a young age, he would occasionally be forced to sleep on the cold grass shaded by a lone and unusually flowerless sakura tree in the forested clearing near the edges of the village. He had no soft futons, no blankets, no charcoal braziers, not even a matted tatami. He had nothing for a source of warmth but the ragged clothes on his back.

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**Chapter 1**

"Insolent swine!" roared a great _daimyo_, Patrick Zala, Lord of Zaft. Anger seeped through his veins at an insubordinate child carrying no more than 15 years in his frail body. More often times then naught, the great _daimyo_ would direct his ire towards a particular servant on his visits to the lands of Plant. Today was one of several days that Lord Zala payed a visit to his old comrade, Lord Clyne. Partly because of the proximity of their lands, and partly for his own intentions.

Remorseful by nature, the boy softly spoke an apology to the nobleman. An apology that the middle aged man unrighteously repudiated as he spat a vicious string of curse words one after another. A violent strike soon followed suit as he delivered a vicious blow to the solar plexus nearly breaking the boy's fragile bones. The boy doubled over instantly, wincing in pain from the hardened man's attack.

After having momentarily recovered, the boy repeated his futile apologies as the lavish donjon barely carried out his meek voice enough to reach the nobleman's deaf ears. The problem was that the servant brought back a cup of tea that the nobleman deemed distasteful after one sip of the warm substance. Hearing the raucous, Lord Clyne entered the room looking around for any problems while asking his old friend what the matter was. Upon observing the familiar trouble making figure cowering in the corner, Lord Clyne scolded the already frightened child and subsequently dismissed him from his duties for the remainder of what would be a direful day.

More than happy to oblige, the boy scurried away from the scrutiny of the noblemen. He knew all too well from previous experiences that being around such nobility with his stature did not blend too well. Reaching the outside of the donjon, the young servant tilted his tired head downcast in shame while tears rolled down his reddened cheeks. He was both grateful and fortunate to have a lucky day in not getting severely reprimanded . . . .

Starting as a child of no more than seven years was he severely punished for apparently failing to fulfill his duty as a servant. He never knew the reasons for his failures and despite his best attempts, in one way or another he would always be scolded for bringing displeasure.

In an isolated incident that the boy had apparently served Lord Clyne's heiress to the lands of Plant too well, Lord Zala took matters into his own hands and privately punished the boy. Often times when found in seclusion, the young child tasted cold hard steel from none other than Lord Zala. Kind and honourable Lord Clyne was led to believe that the boy had always been trouble and though he failed to realize Zala's deception, the Lord of Plant had yet to find malice in his heart to let the servant boy go. After having been scarred for several other incidents, the servant boy held onto servitude by a mere thread.

That mere thread was held in place by Lady Lenore Zala and Lady Eileen Clyne, noble matrons of the great _daimyos_ of Zaft and Plant. Two women that the boy was forever indebted to their seemingly impassive kindness. The many times they calmed their husbands down saved his servant status in the noble house many times before. He did not know why they would often save him, nevertheless he was always grateful. They were the closest mother figures that the boy had ever known and he cared greatly for them. Though he could not show it to them outwardly, neither could they . . . .

On his off days from servitude, the boy would often find himself wandering the grounds of the town aimlessly. At times he would often wander out of town and have been witness to treachery. A veil of peace masked the turmoil of a never-ending war. Peace could not be attained when the world before it created anew through previous wars. Even as a child, being born witness to several bloodshed on the outskirts of the Plant lands did he know that anger and hatred still lingered in the darkness of human hearts. After all, the light in them could always be easily turned off. He knew best himself what the consequences of battles were--for he himself was a result. The fraternal men who became brother-less in battle. The sororal women who became sister-less in battle. The familial parents who became childless in battle. Then there was his example--the lonesome children who were orphaned in battle.

Sadly enough for him, there was no one who would or could accept weak blood in their families. That was the reality he faced growing up, nothing more, nothing less. He knew his place in life. Just by living was he reminded constantly of such a fact. Perhaps the greatest disappointment in his life was the fact that he was not _samurai_--the elite social class in all of Japan. He was far from such an esteemed status, he was just a servant/merchant boy who could hardly even fathom being _samurai_. He would often found himself looking in envy at the many noble children fortunate enough to have been born _samurai_. Regardless, the boy never contained an ounce of spite or negative feelings towards others except himself. He just simply wished to be _samurai _in order to protect . . .

Sadly, the boy thought to himself that being samurai was not possible even if he was born into nobility. Even one of his precious friends who was samurai made it clear to him every time he would absentmindedly long for _the_ sword. His violet eyes snapped shut remembering the harshness of reality.

"I want to be a samurai!" a brown-haired boy of no more than nine years of age proclaimed boldly to his friend.

"But Kira, you cry too much and you can hardly hurt anyone."

"But . . .I want to be samurai . . ." the brunette said solemnly, losing confidence in his previous acclamation every passing second.

"Sorry Kira, but you are weak minded and too kindhearted to even wield a sword," the blue-haired young samurai remarked regretfully as he unsheathed his katana and proceeded to hand it over to the trembling hands of his friend.

Kira dropped the sword unceremoniously as he had gotten nervous in wielding such a weapon capable of killing. Having been proven the truth, the brunette apologized to his friend for dropping his sword and began to cry silently.

Outside the donjon, he found himself crying silently just as he had done so on many occasions. He could not help it. His friend was right about him.

"Kira!" an emerald eyed youth of similar in age yet different in status interrupted the boy's sorrowful reminiscence. "Are you okay? Geeze, why are you crying again?" a blue-haired handsome young man inquired, having seen the brunette cry on several occasions.

"Athrun-sama!" the brunette cried surprisingly.

"Hey, I thought I told you to just call me Athrun?" the emerald-eyed boy replied cheekily.

"Gomen . . . Athrun-sam--Athrun . . ." the servant boy apologized. An unlikely friendship had formed between the two over the years. Born into nobility, Athrun Zala, ever the kind and honorable child he was, befriended everyone and anyone he ever met. He generously treated servants or samurai alike without acknowledging any difference. He was especially fond of the servant boy he had only come to know as Kira Yamato. Having grown up with the servant since practically residing with the Clynes as Athrun often visited, the two formed an impractical bond being naive as they were. On many of Athrun's regular visits, Kira was the only boy who Athrun could talk to and in return, he would tell the brunette boy about the ways of the samurai. Over time, Kira became Athrun's precious friend and vice versa.

"It's okay," Athrun said while patting his friend's back comfortingly. A few minutes of silent peace passed until Lord Zala unceremoniously appeared before the two friends.

"Athrun get away from that wretc--that boy, I need to speak to you for a minute son," Patrick corrected himself before blowing his cover. Athrun was unaware of the mistreatment Kira received because whenever he was around, Patrick would always hide his ire at the servant. Lord Zala knew of the friendship between the two. Though utterly disgusted at the fact, he would not chance having his son feel the slightest bit of resentment towards him. For he needed Athrun to carry out and enhance the family name of Zala. He would often plan ways to break the bond, but he found such a task to be difficult to achieve.

"Hai Chichi-ue, can I have moment with Kira first though?"

Patrick became irritated at first though his features did not show it, but in an effort to appease he allowed Athrun the moment he asked for. Turning to leave, Patrick seemingly disappeared into the inside of the inner donjon while keeping a hidden eye towards his heir's actions. A wicked smile crept on his lips after having seen a chance.

Athrun knew that today was the day he would have to leave Plant lands for an undetermined amount of time. He was very sad to leave his precious friend and a particularly precious female. A kind man that he was, he had made special farewell gifts for his precious friends.

Athrun led the boy around the castle to one of the special gardens lavished with sakura trees as he prepared to say a proper farewell to him. An innumerable amount of prematurely blossomed sakuras reigned down and about the two as Athrun tentatively fished around the insides of his silky noble kimono. The gentle breeze of the wind tossed around countless pink flowers that perfected the scene for a momentous occasion. Kira's intrigue piqued when Athrun pulled out a small wooden _wakizashi_.

"Kira, I'm going back to Zaft and seeing how much of a crybaby you are, I won't be around to help you so here," Athrun said jokingly in an attempt to lighten the mood while placing the small sword in his friend's trembling hands.

Though saddened with the news of his friend's departure, Kira's violet eyes enlarged at the mere sight of the dagger in his hands as childish happiness consumed him, "Arigatou gozaimasu Athrun!"

The servant boy was so ecstatic about receiving such a precious gift from a precious friend that he almost forgot about the laws of the world he lived in--he was not _samurai_. Therefore he could not possess such a weapon. Disdainfully, he began to offer the gift back. Athrun shoved his hands back remarking how overly gracious the boy was. A stern look from him let his friend know that the gift was his and he should just accept it.

"But, I don't have a gift for you . . ." Kira said sadly with his head down-casted a little.

"Don't worry about it Kira, you didn't know," Athrun said reassuringly patting his friend's shoulder.

After a couple of seconds passed, Athrun realized he needed to get back to his father, "Well, ja Kira," Athrun said nonchalantly while Kira could only nod, a farewell unutterable from his lips. After Athrun's figure disappeared within the confines of the structure, Kira drifted into a world of his own as he often did.

Left alone, Kira stared at the magnificent gift in his hands once more. He noted that the dagger was professionally fabricated with little hints of it being handcrafted. An inscribed lettering of the word '_Tori_' on the underside of the wooden scabbard proved otherwise. Athrun was one of two people who knew of his fondness of birds and Kira couldn't help but smile at his friend's thoughtfulness. The wakizashi was his most precious belonging amongst the few things he had. He was very grateful to receive such a gift usually made for _samurai_.

However, unlike Athrun, Kira was not born _samurai_. He was never formally subjected to the rigorous training of a samurai warrior during his childhood. _Samurai _school was a necessity for children who were taught a unique combination of the arts including Chinese studies, physical training, poetry and spiritual discipline that would lead to their maturation. It was there that the young _samurai_ learned _Kendo_, the moral code of the samurai, and Zen Buddhism. It was there that they learned the strict ethical code influenced by Confucianism that stressed loyalty to one's master, respect for one's superior, ethical behavior in all aspects of life and complete self-discipline. In short, it was there that they learned _Bushido._

Absentmindedly stashing the dagger inside of his shabby kimono, Kira began to walk carelessly around the vicinity of the mountaintop castle known as Gujo Hachiman. Though it was not the best in all of the land, the castle was very luxurious in its own right. It was vast and magnificent in its own unique elegance. The outstanding white and pink painting along with the dainty scenery marked its distinguishable features. The unusual colour during the Edo era synchronized in harmony with the surrounding sakura, while the elevated view made the castle very picturesque.

Enveloped in his own world, the boy unconsciously crept near the edges of a ceremonial garden, often used for performing artistic abilities. Kira thought about the times he had serving the Clynes, which he was always grateful for having such a wonderful opportunity. His thoughts trailed to sadness after having realized that he would miss Athrun's presence and that if he were to be discovered with his newly acquired gift, it would surely be taken away from him. Silent tears threatened his boyish features once again, crying was something he was very used to.

Seconds ticked away until he was snapped from his lamenting reverie by a familiar angelic voice that always brightened his mood and dried his tears. Hiding behind the walls of the corridor he came from, his violet eyes peeped out to gaze on his forbidden love's visage. His heart pulsated at just the mere sight of her. He had many fond memories of the young woman that treated him with genial kindness ever since he could remember.

The loveliest woman to ever grace the face of the Earth. The blossoming sakura trees enhanced her image to impossible proportions. Her light pink hair matching the petals of the precious flowers. Her laughter of merriment bringing joy to even the coldest of hearts. Her honest baby blue eyes shining brightly against the spring light, though seemingly naive as they were. She was Lady Lacus Clyne, Songstress of Sakura.

Over the years, Kira had grown rather enamored and fond the gorgeous girl. Being the servant of the Clynes, he grew up with Lacus Clyne. Out of all the nobles, she was by far the one who treated him the kindest It pained his heart that she was so close, yet so distant from him. Though the compassionate Lady often wore a warm-hearted smile, it was only by her personality that entitled any man or woman to such sincere kindness. Lacus was oblivious to the fact that the world often failed to accept one another. Because she lacked malice herself, she could not see it in others.

She was never exposed to such horrors of human nature at its darkest hours. She never lived that kind of life, and Kira was genially happy for her. He wished she would never know such a horrible thing. It was not of her own fault. She did not choose to be born noble nor did she choose to have a tender caring soul that could look beyond hierarchal status.

_Shigata ga nai._

She was so pure in nature that Kira depicted her as a _tennyo_ sent from the heavens. Someone of unearthly beauty and unearthly kindness who cared and loved anyone and everyone just as much as the next person. Her beauty awed many, but there was indeed more to her than met the shallow eye.

He knew that personally himself. Not once had she ever shown him anger ever since he had known her. His aloofness never bothered her. His inadequacy as a servant never afflicted her. She smiled at the world's flaws and never once shunned them out. He remembered the kindness she showed him, even if she showed kindness to everyone. _He_ was shown kindness. Kindness he was never shown outwardly. Kindness he never once thought he had. The torment of his life did not allow him to live so peacefully. It was her kindness that gave him a break in the rigors of his life. He knew he loved her the minute he saw her. He knew he loved her more when he saw the kindness in her. He also knew. . .

His alien world reverie would soon be broken when he spotted her fiance approach her and envelope her lovingly in a warm embrace. When they broke away, the soft and silky hands of the petite girl cupped the young man's face warmly. A loving gaze staring intently through the windows of the soul. A perfect match of earnest baby blue with earnest emerald. A small genial smile etched on their features. Happiness emanating from their bounded bodies. That was what he knew. He had often wanted to trade his life away for even a fleeting moment to be in love and to be loved back. That was not possible though. He would be reminded of such a terrible fate.

The blue-haired young man gave her a sensual kiss, which she returned merrily illiciting several 'aws' and 'oos' from the small crowd that gathered by the garden. Amongst the witnesses was a pleased Lord Zala, proud to have a courageous and headstrong samurai as his son and a beautiful daughter as well as more power.

It seemed the kiss drove a sword directly through his heart in one clean thrust. The pain hurt so much it was palpable. The blade in his heart twisted at every passing second the two were lip-locked. The hope in his eyes fading into a dark abyss. How could he have forgotten? He was a servant. She was a goddess. The thought of her with him always forlornly ended in sadness as he often thought that there was no use--who was he kidding? He was not even _samurai_ and not even half the man Athrun Zala was.

The harsh reality settled over the brunette while a terrible feeling clenched the innards of his chest even tighter. He was jealous. But he never wanted to feel such an emotion, especially towards his precious friend. He felt like a traitor. He felt ungrateful. Yes he loved her, but she loved Athrun, and Athrun loved her. He felt shame for his feelings. He felt disgust at his weakness.

By the time the two disentangled themselves from each other, the horrible feeling was gone. Kira may not have been _samurai_, but he knew his duty. He knew the plight of his life. And above all else, his weak but tender heart did not allow him to carry such a vile emotion.

Kira's saddened yet jovial eyes glistened with tears because he knew from the depths of his whole heart, mind, body and soul that it was an impossible love, but a love nonetheless. He was not giving up on her. He was not letting her go. Though he never had her to begin with. He could not bare to see her with another man. But he could not bare to see her at all. Though the feeling she aroused in him unknowingly would inevitably end in utter despair. It was a different feeling rather than the constant pain and sadness he often felt in his life. She was like a pill that soothed his dying heart, yet silently killing it. A pill he was addicted on. An addiction he could never stop.

He could see her pure emotions written all over her angelic face. She was happy. That was all that mattered. With the thought of her happiness in mind, he could never hold a shred of anger, jealousy or malice towards anyone, especially the one who made her happy. He was happy for them, as they were happy being together.

This was one of the many inner battles Kira fought over knowing the couple for the course of his life. They would soon be married and in his kind and gentle heart, he knew he did not have the courage to face such an event. The familiar tears rolled trailed down his features. A small smile curved on his lips while his eyelids covered his violaceous eyes in a feeble attempt to engrave the solemn facts in his soul. He wanted to stop loving her for the sake of his precious friend. In his mind, he wanted to stop loving her for his sake as well. He would often try with each time getting closer and closer to success by drowning himself in a flood of misery. Though the flood came by nature, he would take the dip in the death awaiting waters. To love the betrothed woman was a sin. A horrible sin compounded in the sin of betraying a friend. Those reasons alone were enough to convince his troubled mind to stop loving. Nevertheless, just as one's lungs will always draw the next breath so long as there is air to breathe, Kira's heart would always love her for the kindness she has shown him.

There was no longer a trace of envy. His heart's resolve never wavered, nor did it once faltered. After all, it was not his choice to fall in an impossible love.

_Shigata ga nai._

Suddenly, he was snapped back to reality by a blinding force that held much vigor filled with resentment. Kira found himself placed high upon the rigid wall, frightened and miserable with his mouth covered by a calloused hand. When his tear streaked eyes opened, he saw a wicked smile plastered on the lips of Lord Zala. In a low menacing voice, "You will no longer be a servant here. You will be nothing and you will live with the worms of this world."

In a tragic sequence of events, he found himself crying for the losses in his life. First, he lost a precious gift. Next, he lost a precious friend. Then, he lost a precious duty. And last but not least, he lost his life.


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

Kira aimlessly staggered around. He walked down from the castle and went into the towns around the base of the mountain. He did not know where he was going nor he did care. With the only reasons for living his life stripped away from him, he couldn't care less about anything else. His life was now meaningless. His empty eyes seemed like looking into a cup of glass without water in it. If a living object with no meaning existed, there would be no reason for it to live at all. Kira's lips sagged sadly as his face took on a couple more months into its features.

The pain of sadness seeped into his soul. His eyes wandered off into the distance while seeing nothing there at all. He knew he would never be able to see, hear, or hold a decent conversation with Athrun ever again, nor Lady Lacus for that matter. He was too ashamed of himself. His last meeting with his once precious friend was absolutely horrible. Kira thought the event couldn't have gotten any worser than it did.

Kira was humiliated and shamed in front of all who saw the event. Two noble families were witness to his degradation. Lady Lacus, Lady Clyne, Lady Zala and some servants and an imperial messenger along with the two great _daimyos_. It was set on the ceremonial stage that Kira stumbled upon, except this time he was under the limelight. A significant amount of sakura flowers stopped cascading towards the earth. It seemed gravity no longer took interested in them. Rather, nature was interested in another thing. The veranda consisted of silent nobles, all intrigued in what was happening. The clouds seemed to darken as if to foreshadow what was to come. The fading wintry wind stopped blowing while a trifled smell arose in place of the aromatic smell of the blooming flowers. Meanwhile, a miasma of feelings, anger, confusion, and betrayal amongst the many emanated from the scrutinized gaze of emerald orbs.

When asked what he had done with his gift, he could only reply in falsehood. One look from Lord Zala sent enough shivers down his spine to match a month's worth of icy cold baths.

"Kira! What did you do with it?" asked Athrun disbelievingly.

"I . . . I sold it," Kira replied in untruth truthfully. His head angled perpendicular to the floor having felt his nudity under close observation of noble eyes. He knew what they were thinking and a part of himself convinced him that they were right. He was an ungrateful servant. After having processed the information, several pairs of eyes bore faultfinding holes into his being. The glares themselves did not make him uneasy. He could handle them as he had always done so. It was the misconception. Deceit etched in truth. Truth etched in deceit. Four pairs of eyes dissented from the group consensus, one held happiness, two held sadness, and the last held kindness.

Happiness came from a victorious man who hid the topic of conversation within his extravagant kimono. Sadness seeped from Lady Lenore and Lady Clyne who seemed disbelieving of such an event, but were forced into silence and a dejected look that tore Kira's heart into shreds. Kindness came from a worried young woman whom was befuddled by the event. He even felt genial sympathy for his plight emanate from her. He hated himself for having drawn compassion from the woman, compassion that he felt undeserved. He could not manage to look into the baby blue eyes that were not judgmental of his character or seemingly lack there of.

Athrun was distraught and aching inside, his precious friend _was_ no liar. His aggrieved emerald orbs wanting to smash the brunette's face and at the same time shield him from the scrutiny. He could not find the heart to do neither though. Remorsefully, he turned his back on what used to be his precious friend. A simple gesture that retaliated against the insulting offense that Kira had committed. Kira's eyes almost dripped that familiar moisture, but he could not allow himself to do so.

To ease the tension, Lord Clyne reluctantly revoked Kira's duty as a servant and banished him to the outskirts. After his declaration, all were silent. There were no public objections, but a part of all of the people's hearts felt the impact of Lord Clyne's words. Leaving in feigned robust, the former servant walked away from the castle forever. No tears were shed by him even at that point. Though, his violet eyes betrayed him easily. Before he went out of sight, one remorseful glance at Lord Zala stirred a small flash of regret from the middle aged man. The reason why--Kira held no ounce of hatred towards him. Just a silent acceptance with a face that asked for forgiveness for whatever he had done to the _daimyo_ to incite his heinous upon him. Kira was leaving. Never to return. All the sakura flowers stopped falling seemingly marking Kira's leave of eternal absence.

His thoughts dwarfed his reality to the point of almost no return that he did not even realize his new surroundings. He was considerably a great distance from the castle where he used to work. Homes were cluttered so close together they seemed almost unable to breathe. A pungent smell was evident from the lack of hygiene of dirty men floundering around. The roads were a sickening sight of feces mixed with mud and some indistinguishable elements. The place was overall inhabitable for any nobleman to dwell in. He was in the rundown streets of the _eta._

An ominously subtle shaking of the earth viciously pulled him back to reality. Quite common in Japan were the mild tremors, but Kira so much did not even care about it at the moment. He was empty. The unbearable shame still squeezing the life out of his heart as if it were juice being taken from an orange. He wanted nothing more then to take his life right then and there as he had felt it would have been easier. However, that was yet another impossible task. His head hung low in defeat at not even having a weapon nor the heart to do the deed. Equally degrading was the smell of his own cowardice in his fear of death. Something that was said to not have ever been a factor for any samurai. In fact, death was assuredly embraced by many samurai while fear itself was eliminated. Though the crudeness of the world seemed overwhelming, there was no way the boy could take his life.

After trudging heavy steps on the weary earth, he found himself lost in a decrepit town just as his heart was lost in nothingness. A little ways over he found a small child of no more than eight years of age. He found her to be cute despite her rugged appearance and shabby clothing that almost matched his own. Her brown hair was tied up into a small messy bun. A few freckles adorned her mildly pale cheeks and her big brown orbs envisioned the world in chastity. A small empty smile graced his sulky lips. His mind's eye saw the innocence of the girl which made him grimace inwardly after having felt such a trait taken away the day he was born. He silently wished that the same would not happen to her. The girl seemed to have been unhealthily skinny, she was _eta_ after all. Just as he is now or should have always been. The boy wished he could have offered her some food, but sadly he had nothing to give. He himself was nothing.

The harsh reality befuddled him once again as a group of drunken peasants who seemed to stumble into the _eta _village. The peasants, who made up the majority of the population, were the second highest social class of the Edo Period. Only second to samurai. The peasants held more privileges than Kira ever had even as a merchant boy. Consciously aware of the social standings, Kira turned his head away and resumed his sullen walk to nowhere. After all, he belonged nowhere.

After walking for a while, he turned around after hearing a small scuffle. His solemn violet eyes watched in horror as the little _eta_ girl was stalked maliciously by the small group of intoxicated peasants. Their sloshed eyes glimmering with vile intentions while their grubby hands began to draw closer and closer to the frightened girl. Her eyelids soon closed tight with her small hands draped over her in an effort to imagine the bad men away. After a few moments of trembling silently inside her body. She was surprised. She felt a pair of warm arms, definitely not belonging to the drunkards, pick up her tiny frame protectively and swiftly rushed away from the danger. The little girl peeped out from the small gap she created between her tiny middle and ring fingers. She noticed her saviour's messy brown hair and the concerned look on his face. Ever the smart child she was, the little girl pointed out a peculiar small house nearby. The brunette meagerly smiled at the intelligence of the child.

A distressed mother seemingly in her late thirties came out briskly from the house. Kira plopped the girl down on the ground safely as she received warm matriarchal death hug and lighthearted admonishment. Conscious of his un-needed presence, Kira began to walk back steadily towards the group of drunkards seeing as his job was only half done. He was momentarily stopped by a pair of small arms wrapped around his right leg. Smiling back at the child, he waved her away causing the girl released her hold on him while a grateful pair of eyes looked at the boy kindly. He motioned for them to go back inside while he returned to do his bidding.

Reluctantly, the mother and daughter entered their house. The mother caught on to the boy's intentions as she eagerly stood by the door observing with keen interest from afar. She watched with keen interest as if studying the soul of the boy. Nobody else would notice the following events.

Upon reaching the few men, Kira placed his arms down in defeat. He struck a heavy bargain with the drunkards. In release of the girl, he would give himself up to a rowdy beating. A beating he took willingly. The tightly clenched fists berated the boy with an endless amount of left and right hooks. All of which were sloppily thrown. After several long minutes, the drunkards gave up to exhaustion and settled for one last kick in the stomach of the flattened boy. The dirt of the earth tasted dryly bitter in his ajar mouth. The pain was good. After all, Kira could tolerate physical pain easily.

Slowly getting up, he found himself faintly surprised as a pair of arms helped him onto his feet. The mother had came to his side. She led him graciously to her home, supporting him with tenderly. Reaching the innards of the home, she generously offered him a cup of water. One of the few things she had. Having a better look at the home, Kira noted the inferiority of the condition the house was in. It barely had a roof. The cedar walls was ridden with large holes inconveniently placed to allow a mild draft to enter unwillingly. It was a tiny room compared to the castle like an ant compared to a human. The what would be a _shoji _was poorly made, its washi paper was tattered with several holes.

It all did not matter the least bit to him though. He never had a house to call a home. This place was a home to the mother and the daughter. He believed happiness can come from the poorest places on earth because even if it is poor, there was at least a meaning to it. The home for instance, served the purpose of a shelter for this small family. Then he thought about himself. A boy without meaning for the only meaning he had had just been taken away. He would soon drift away into his wistful thinking.

A small touch on his left shoulder found his attention and reeled him back. Snapping back to reality, he noticed he was in front of a small audience. There were two pairs of eyes gazing at him intently. One with brown eyes looked at him in mirth as she giggled at his funny mindless expression. The other pair stared at him intently with a serious expression sketched on her face. They belonged to the mother.

"Why did you do it?" she asked simply.

After a while, Kira thought of a witty answer. "Because I am samurai," Kira said with feigned belief. A bundle of ironic remorse inwardly laced his words with enough sarcasm to fill the small house. In reality, he wanted to believe in his words, though he knew they would never be true. Not even close. It was a complete lie. He didn't want to say the real reason why he saved her. He said those few words only to see how they would sound. He wished could be true, but it was not.

"No you're not," a third voice intervened, "you don't have a sword."

Kira stared at the girl stupefied at her perception. She was right. After all, he could not protect her with his own hands. All he did was spare her the pain. That was the sad truth. His life was meaningless. He was meaningless. "Gomen nasai . . ." he whispered weakly.

The tears that threatened him on several occasions finally fell. The day's events caught up to him in one fluid motion. It struck him like a mean left hook to his ribs. His body was at all not aching. There were no wounds. No soreness. Just nothing.

"For what?" she inquired in confusion.

"For not being able to protect you . . ." he managed to stammer out through his cries.

"Silly!" she said jovially slapping the crying brunette on the arm. Her rash gesture stopped the flow of tears momentarily. Then they resumed again. The little girl would manage to stop his crying by presenting him a crane origami she had made. The boy was surprised by her kind gesture at first and then accepted into his hands warmly. He admired the roughly made paper crane. It was beautiful despite its faults. He smiled happily at the small girl and eagerly stashed the origami inside his rickety kimono for safekeeping.

All the while, the mother smiled knowingly. She knew from the moment she saw his warm violet eyes that there was something about the boy. Grabbing the brunette's soft yet calloused hands, the mother led him to a secret backroom. Upon closer inspection, Kira noticed that the place was a makeshift forge. A small man made heating furnace at the center. It was dimly lit save for the light that shown through the backdoor. At the corner of the small room, a wizened old man grimly held a sheathed katana tightly in his elderly hands. The _Tsuka_ or handle of the sword was decorated in a an unusual pattern that differed from normal katana and even those of the higher ranking samurai. It was coloured a mix of vibrant blue and scarlet red, both unusual colors of a katana. The mother nodded towards the elder inciting him to unsheathe the sword two inches of the way. A small and unfamiliar inscription was written on the shiny metal.

"It is for you" she said simply.

Kira still had a baffled look plastered on his face.

"Chichi-ue said he would only give it to the one who is worthy of it, but in our eyes, you are indeed worthy of it," she smiled.

Kira dumbly pointed at himself while lipping the word 'me' questioningly.

A simple nod assured him it was his. Turning back to the aged man, he noticed a small frown of disapproval on his crusted lips, while two encouraging smiles could be seen from about a quarter of a mile away. Kira looked from the mother to the daughter to the old craftsman and back to the mother again. Tears started welling in his eyes as he turned for his leave. Immediately, the mother's hand flung out to his shoulder stopping him politely. Her eyes glistened with confusion and compassion.

"Gomen nasai . . . I am too weak of a person to wield a weapon . . ." Kira stuttered having tears prick his vision at having to swallow a hard pill, "I do not like to fight . . . that's why I cannot protect anyone, not even myself . . . I am a coward . . ." he could barely manage saying the last of his difficult confession, "I am no samurai," Kira said softly in sadness. He turned to leave through the backdoor of the hidden shop. The mother and daughter were utterly bewildered by his response. They were surprised at his kindness--not once did he ask for a reward and when they were handing him one, he politely declined the offer. The wizened craftsman's frown turned into a small mysterious smile.

All of a sudden, a tremor in the earth shook the house wildly. Kira's movements were stopped altogether by the sound. The thunderous rattle of the floor seemed to have a rhythm of its own. It seemed everyone was bracing for impact from the instability of the earth. This was not nature's doing. This was something else. Curiously, Kira exited through the back and blindly ran on top of a nearby hill. Reaching the top, he turned to look over the town. What he saw frightened him to the core of his bones.

Homes were ablaze. People were being slaughtered--peasants and _eta_ alike. A swarm of brown colored kimono samurai ran amuck through the town seemingly burning everything they touched. Seeing further beyond the town was an even larger amount of samurai marching synchronically. The taps of their feet causing the rumbling of the earth. A blow horn sounded, an antiquated device that hadn't been used in ages to alert the people of Plant of an invading force. After several minutes of hesitation, the boy ghastly realized the home he came from was up in flames. The breeze of the wind spreading the fire like soy sauce on rice. The wooden frames and thatched roofs eagerly fueling the flames. Many houses were burnt to the core already. Suppressing his own fear, Kira managed to break out of his stupor. He ran back towards the house with his speed increasing as he feared for the family's safety.

Upon entering the home, what he saw broke his broken heart. Without a doubt, he was crying in agony. The forge room was no longer dimly lit as searing heat radiated from the embers surrounding the chamber. A small pile of bodies could be seen in the middle of the room next to the furnace. Each body losing the ounces of remaining life left within them. Kira staggered towards the familiar faces sorrowfully. Crimson streaks of blood trailed from their wounds. The light in their eyes slowly fading away into darkness. Kira reached out a hand to cover their eyes honourably, but failed halfway through his attempt. Pure grief shaking his whole entire being as his legs buckled under him and his fist clenched firmly. He could feel the wet tears trail down his face as he screeched a hoarse sounding yell madly in an attempt to dull out the grief. However, his choked scream of agony did little to compensate for his sorrow.

Too caught up in his grief, he failed to notice the last remnants of strength left within the bodies. The dying daughter who was in the arms of the fading mother each held a peaceful look on their faces. They seemed even relieved to have fallen but that was not case. The look in the mother's eyes conveyed to him the real reason behind their faces--it was a powerful message. She was given life because they were treated kindly--by _him_, and for that she was forever grateful. Over the years, her kind heart slowly grew with anger and malice at the unfortunate life her daughter had to live. She was angry for not being able to give her anything better. She had thought life was unfair. All that changed when she had met _him_. She was ashamed of herself for having given up to the feeling of resentment and hatred. She had thought she knew herself what it was like to feel meaningless while it was _him _who truly knew what it felt like to be meaningless. Yet, despite the sorrow of his life, not a single trace of hatred remained in his tender heart.

The mother knew her daughter was happy without having lived in lavish wealth, lavish houses or lavish castles. The boy taught her that simple lesson. He also gave her daughter a moment of happiness and protected her from his similar plight. She thought his heart was worn on his sleeves too much.

It was indeed a weakness to have a soft heart.

It was indeed a weakness to be kind.

This still warring era never allowed it.

But it was through these flaws that truly protected people.

To feel meaningless was the same thing as being lifeless. It was Kira who had given her meaning, thus it was him who had given her life.

A small smile formed on the passing girl's lips as she faded into the dark abyss. She smiled one last time at her protector while the mother softly closed her daughter's eyes without remorse. She would soon follow, but her _karma_ was not finished.

She saw the aching look of the boy. His boyish features were etched in agony and worry. His eyes showed him off the most. He was wishing to be able to save her, her father, and even her already deceased daughter. Her eyes watered from the kindness evident in his expression. The boy was selfless and guileless.

Flames engulf the house threatening to collapse the rickety design. A peculiar object shimmered illogically from the surrounding fire. The object was held tightly in the old man's weakening hands. Slowly, with the last of his energy he lifted up the object in earnest offering. A silent wish was made as he passed on the sword. The elderly man smiled at the teary-eyed boy and with bloodied hands, he unsheathed it just enough to show the engraving once more. Just as the burning house began to collapse. The fading grandfather whispered, "It means _ningenmi . . ._"

"Human weakness and human kindness."

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	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

The tip of a blade ripped through the guts of a falling warrior with ease. His brown kimono stained by the crimson of his own blood. He died a good death. He died serving his liege lord. His last words uttered to the better samurai was, "Your fate is sealed." A small smile crept on his lips as he faded away. His breathless body fell with a thud on the floor beside a gasping blue-haired samurai.

"Athrun! Behind you!" yelled a light green-haired samurai with brown eyes.

The said blue-haired samurai spun 180 degrees in a flash showing off his impressive skills even as a youth and laid waste to another opposing samurai. The relentless waves of brown kimono samurai soon subsided into a small trickle of what it once was. The momentary pause in action did not last long.

"Arigatou Nicol," Athrun smiled gratefully.

Nicol smiled back, glad to have helped out his close friend. Nicol was part of the elite noble guard and had been befriended by Athrun. He would follow Athrun to the death if he had wished to do so. To him, Athrun was his _daimyo_. Nicol was an excellent samurai who excelled in espionage as he was one of the chosen few who were partly trained by _ninja_. Nicol was an honourable young man as he never liked or admired killing and fighting unlike most samurai. Often times in his missions had he avoided direct conflict by exercising through a longer route to success rather than head on combat that would lead to more deaths. There was an air of sentimental nature and sympathy that arose from the young samurai, though in battle he would loyally give out his cause and carry it out flawlessly. This was no regular spy mission though, this was a battle for their lives.

It was not long until a group of eyes peeked outside from the assailed castle and much to their horror, they spotted a much larger force of samurai approaching from beyond the outer walls--easily exceeding over a quarter of a hundred thousand. A creepy silence ensued while a light trembling of the floor left little to the imagination of the source of the sound. Everyone inside the _donjon_ were in an uncontrollable panic mode whilst being confused at what to do next.

"Dammit!" screamed an angered Lord Zala. Needless to say, the great _daimyo_ was irate at the current events. "How the hell could this happen?" he asked no one in particular.

He imagined himself just a few minutes ago. Eating tender fruits and rice with delicate fish in an extravagant bowl. The taste of the exquisite shrimp sushi still lingering in his mouth. A mix of seaweed and imported mango juice stewing in his ripened belly. Before his sword drew out to slash an encroaching samurai, he had come under the impression that the whole raucous was imagined by his mind. A deceitful trick that he would have scoffed at, if not for the fact that his life was in real danger.

He would often reminisce about the Zala family and Clyne family enjoying a nice time together. He was oblivious to the tension throughout the dinner. They were all slightly recovering from what had happened earlier. The solemn dismissal of the servant boy that had worked around their house for years still laid heavy in a small part of their concealed hearts. However, the topic on each family member's mind was not discussed at all. Even though it predominated one blue-haired samurai's mind, there was nothing he said nor nothing that could be said.

The roar of a horn struck all with a blow of hysteria. Most had thought it was a false alarm for never such a sound was heard in decades. Plant Lands especially Junius Five was notorious for having been peaceful for their leader was peaceful. The ominous sound was followed by the beat of large drums that caused actual panic to consume the town and the castle. A flood of brown kimono samurai immediately rushed inside catching the noble family off guard. Their valiant defenders trained extremely well defended them successfully to this point onwards.

Scores of brown coloured samurai were falling victim to the elite noble guard. Sometime during the battle and before the alarming vision of the invading army, Lord Zala had breathed mistakenly placed confidence amongst themselves.

"Their numbers don't mean anything!" Lord Zala declared arrogantly while turning to face his old comrade, "Your Silver Wind Samurai army should be here any moment now, isn't that right?"

A grave look etched in the other _daimyo's_ face that deflated Lord Zala's confidence. Lord Clyne stuttered out, "They . . . They were sent to Boaz this morning . . ."

The faces of all who had forgotten this startling piece of news fell to the floor as if gravity increased twofold. A small smirk crept onto the lips of one who had not forgotten such vital information while a dreadful silence ensued. A sullenness fell upon the lavish room that was soon disrupted by the slaying of another brown samurai. A few more seconds passed until one prominent voice spoke up.

"We must leave," Lady Clyne said calmly, the most composed of all amidst the confusion.

The rest of the two noble families and around a score of elite samurai guards nodded in comprehension. They all began to head towards the secret back gate that was only used for emergencies. Only a handful of people knew about its existence. They fought their way through waves and waves of encroaching samurai until they got to the noble stables. Every horse in the stable was imported from the Dutch during that time, a sign of a wealthy _daimyo_ that was Lord Clyne. Athrun offered his hand to Lady Lacus politely in which she graciously took. He helped settle her over to saddle a white horse, a rare _Nambu_ breed, while the other guards aided the rest of the noble family.

Once settled, the noble group treaded quickly heading towards the secret _Ha-no-mon _Gate located at the back of the mountaintop castle. What awaited them there, filled them all with an inconcealable terror.

They had all thought to swiftly travel to Boaz, the main city of Zaft, believing that it would be their only safe haven against such an invading army. They did not expect to see there hopes squashed in an untimely manner. With the secret gate in view, they saw a score of samurai blocking the entrance clad in full warring gear. This was most unexpected. The exaggerated masks causing a stir amongst all opposing samurai. Most were equipped with spears and katanas. The prominent feature that lowered the morale of the elite guard was the _kikou_ protectively encasing the samurai that would prove difficult to fight against in casual attire. They were caught at the worst possible time.

The noble family and the elite guards noted a leader figure who was wearing a different coloured armor. His medium length silver hair flowed freely from the lack of a _kabuto_ that the other samurai wearing the full battle armour had worn. He was undoubtedly the leader seeing as he was in the forefront of the small battalion and amongst the few who were on horseback. An aura of arrogance and cockiness radiated from his figure. A small smirk was planted on his lips that could have been seen from a mile away.

Slowly, the armoured group menacingly approached the frightened and unmoving nobles. Their feet were planted on the ground as their minds quickly tried to analyze their odds against this group of men who were in a more favorable situation. A few of the elite guards had even wished for their armour to magically appear on their shoulders. Hysteria would have befallen any normal soldier, but they were _samurai_.

A closer look of the approaching armoured group revealed even more terror in the eyes of the _daimyos_. Three crests were embedded visually on the shoulder padding of the armour that the samurai not on horseback wore. They could be distinguished by the normality of their armour compared to the other samurai. A part of their brown-coloured kimono appearing in the line of sight by a slab of sunlight. The middle aged men thought gravely while trying to assess what was to come. Athrun looked at their faces as his face contorted into a questioning look of its own.

"The Duel Samurai . . ." the aged men replied with a barely decipherable croak after having seen the look on Athrun's face.

Their dreading looks had conveyed to him a warning not to underestimate their power. A quarter of the elite guards turned to their respective _daimyo_ and nodded with a grunt. The moment Lord Clyne noticed and silently allowed for the brave guards to do as they wish, the half a dozen elites recklessly charged into battle against the opposing squadron yelling out the honour of their liege lord. Afterwards, Lord Clyne yelled out for the noble families and the remaining guard to follow afterwards and make a break for the gate. Before the beseeched group could have reacted, cries of death emitted viciously from the small group of samurai that charged into battle. All six of them were slaughtered as quickly as they decided to sacrifice their lives. Their casual kimono gear proved no match for the _kikou_. Spears stabbed them before they even reached the Duel Samurai, while searing blades struck them down.

Instinctively, the noble families began withdrawing back towards the castle. Even some of the samurai were at a frantic mindset fearing for the lives of their _daimyos_. They needed a miracle. But samurai do not believe in miracles. Closing into the castle, a horrible realization swamped their minds. Much to their dismay, a portion of the castle had gone up in flames. They were trapped. The Duel samurai resumed their notorious stalking motion with added brisk. Eagerly smelling the odor of victory. With only one option left, each of the noble families and their guards nodded in unison signaling their silent agreement to make a last stand. They charged against the attackers bravely surprising the the other samurai for awhile until they recovered and began to charge as well. The men roared a battle cry of "Clyneeee!" as they neared the other group, each samurai not fearing death. Their honour was on the line in this battle. Once in range, swords and spears clashed together in a thunderous moment. The ensuing violence caused an involuntary shudder to all those not experienced with the grimness of battle.

The counterattack fared much better than opposed to the six samurai who died in vain. Athrun, Nicol and a certain brown haired personal bodyguard of the Clynes were much to be accredited for their success. The leader along with the three other samurai observed from afar. Three pairs of eyes were itching for some action but were held back by their leader.

Athrun scored several blows and received some minor damage. His blood-stained katana, called Aegis for his desire to protect his lands was finely crafted from the best of blacksmiths, emerged from a hole in one of the armoured samurai. Athrun used a flurry of blows and counterblows amidst the battling group, his movement impressing the silver-haired samurai. His sword whirled high above his head for a deathblow that struck down another member of the brown kimono samurai. A clean slice decapitated his head. A small thud emitted from the fall of the carcass as the displaced _kabuto _rolled around the dust of the ground a little ways over stopping at the foot of another samurai. His victory came at a price though, as another samurai's spear skewered a little ways through his left shoulder. Athrun smarted in pain that his years of training quickly dulled out for a retaliation. Pulling out his _wakizashi_ from the sash of his kimono, the _obi_ wobbled ever so slightly as his experience reduced the friction from his actions. Athrun used the momentum from unsheathing the small blade and charged at the spearman. With one swing of the dagger, he fiercely ripped through the offending samurai's armour. The partly embedded spear lost its will to pierce and clattered to the floor along with the dead body. Blood stained his navy blue hair and his vision wavered a little from the loss of his own vital fluid.

Nicol on the other hand was fortunate enough to have escaped harms way. His skills with the sword were very fluent even for his young age. He was a master at evasion amongst the other arts that he practiced. His sword shrieked against the blade of another samurai. With his quickness and fluidity, he managed to cut through the man's armour with a horizontal slash of his finely crafted katana, called Blitz for the blazing speed he exhibited with the blade. In anticipation, he dodged to his left from an incoming blow thrown by another samurai who made a straightforward overhead slash. His counter was an effective twirl of his sword straight through the back of the committed warrior. Death approached the body as quickly as his dash was thrown. Nicol silently prayed for their honourable deaths while keeping on guard of his own plight.

Meanwhile, the brown-haired bodyguard swung his blade of death without any difference. His calloused hands and years of training showed off at that very moment where his strength was needed to serve his lord. The middle aged man disposed an armoured samurai with a fierce angular arched swing of experience. His blade, called Lagowe, cut through the softer portion of the armour around the neck area while he sensed the incoming strike of another warrior. "Waltfeld-san, look out!" Athrun warned. Almost instantly, the said man's free hand flew to his wakizashi and in a crouching motion he ducked from a procumbent slash and countered with a swift leveled slice of his own with the small dagger. His swirling katana lacerated both hands that laced around the samurai's sword rendering him defenseless.

Regardless of their individual victories, the group was effectively being cut down. The three better soldiers looked around at the battlefield after dispersing their combatants. Disheartenment soon followed after as they realized their numbers now stood at five to ten. Amongst the standing noble guard was a young man with blonde hair and cobalt blue eyes. He was an experienced noble guard and trusted by Lord Clyne. The remaining noble guards were reduced to writhing bodies drenched in blood, mangled bodies, and detached ligaments. A small cloud of dust arose from the battlefield, and once it settled, the fight in the men's bodies dwindled quickly.

Sensing their naturally lowering morale, Lord Clyne had stepped into the fray soon followed by Lord Zala. The noble women watched in anticipation and worry for their lords lives. The battle resumed its frantic pace. Experience shown in the battlefield as the _daimyos_ held their own against armoured men. For a moments pass, the remaining noble guards watched in awe as their lords flew into action. The young eyes hadn't had a privilege of seeing them battle. Their sword skills were of the old tradition and the youths were eager to pick up a pointer or two. Reality caught up to them as Waltfeld-san parried a spear headed towards a distracted Athrun. The skirmish continued its hectic fashion.

Lord Clyne poised his blade overhead in symmetry parallel towards the ground. His two hands clutched the _tsuka_ of the katana in a fearsome grip daring one of the opposing samurai to attack. Foolishly, the samurai baited into the maneuver and fell swiftly to Lord Clyne's classical Momoyama Era katana with one swift cut. The silver haired samurai was clearly impressed as he two wanted to witness such a style that he had heard about only by word of mouth alone. The_ Shinkage-ryu_ sword style was quite impressive. Lord Zala was lesser of a fighter than his comrade _daimyo_, but nevertheless he was quite a tactician in the fields of battle. His sword style was a simple assortment of energy conserving side slashes that he used in succession. The opposing samurai had no trouble in fighting the middle aged man as his armour helped fend off most of the feeble side slashes. A single counterattack caught Lord Zala offguard and had ripped off a significant portion of his expensive kimono. Athrun saw his father in danger and proceeded to quickly finish off his combatant. The pain in his shoulder was abated by the adrenaline coursing through his veins by his need to protect. An angered Lord Zala quickly threw an energy spending angular slash that decimated the offending samurai.

Lord Zala's exertions would soon prove costly. The ripped portion of his kimono along with the asymmetric slash he used indeliberately hurled a small sheathed dagger towards the ground nearby the noble lady litter. It seemed the whole battlefield stopped in anticipation. Almost all of the opposing samurai fighting had contented to stop seeing as how their opponents were distracted. After all, they were all _samurai_. Almost immediately, they had all sensed an ominous feeling. Athrun was the most flabbergasted of the group as he quickly realized what that blade was or more importantly, who it belonged to. His enlarged eyes looked to and fro. First at the dagger. Then at his father. Then repeated the short cycle. Lord Zala had the look of a man who was suppressing the natural reaction of giving away his gambling position in a simple Japanese board game of _Sugoroku_.

The noble families all looked at Lord Zala incredulously as if they were trying to decipher what was going on in his mind. Meanwhile, the three observing 'samurai' eager for a fight and angered by the sudden change of events jumped off their horses effortlessly. They scolded the idle men for their stupidity. Having regained the direct attention of the nobles, hideous smiles arose from them as they stalked their angered but tiring prey. Though disrespectful were the three men, the remaining brown coloured kimono samurai reluctantly backed off from the scene knowing their superiority. The enraged noble families and elite guard had dropped their focus on the dagger immediately after having been insulted. They looked at the appearance of the three culprits and in closer view, they noticed that the men were not samurai.

The first in front stood out the most as more experienced and of a natural seniority amongst the group. His half smirk, half deranged smile seemingly portrayed him as both sane and psychotic at the same time. He donned a darkened teal armour that sparkled as if it was made minutes before the battle while an unidentified weapon was slung over his back. It seemed to be a unique foreign weapon that was generally dubbed by the Japanese as 'barbarous' guns. Anything foreign to Japanese customs were often regarded as 'barbarian'. A closer look at the man's face revealed that he was not of Japanese ethnicity. His dark eyes and yellowish green hair made him stick out like a samurai from _eta_. A standard katana was worn on the right side of his _obi_--violating normal rules of samurai while not having a smaller dagger. He was indeed not a samurai.

On the left of the presumed leader was a completely crazed looking man who's hair matched that of Nicol's. His armour was of a dull olive green colour that also seemed fresh with its clean stitches. He had two long sleek tube-like shafts slung over both of his shoulders while an evil smirk lined his lips. The two _daimyos_ quickly noted what the barbarous weapons he had with him. They were arquebuses--firearms filled with gunpowder that shot out bullets that could pierce through any normal samurai armour easily. A katana was draped poorly over on the left side of his _obi_. This man was also not a samurai.

The third man equally stuck out from the crowd. The vision of his reddish pink hair made him not samurai and culturally associated with the Portuguese. Common amongst the Portuguese barbarians were the two pistols over his deplorably worn sash. His armour was a dark shade of black with bright red outlines that also appeared freshly made. For a time, it seemed the three barbarian men had donned the samurai armour as a mere joke. Inciting more silent rage towards their foreign bodies. After having drawn out their barbarous weapons, the two _daimyos _immediately lowered their katana in an act of surrender. Meanwhile, Athrun and rest of the guard were baffled by their lords cowardly act.

That is until, the green haired man drew out one of his arquebuses and blew the head right off one of his own samurai's shoulders--the defenseless one with the lacerated hands. The noble families and elite guards grimaced at the vile act while their minds screamed avengeance. They knew that they were outmanned and outgunned at the moment though so reckless retaliation would be in vain. Intelligently they complied with their lords silent request as they dropped their weapons.

After the prompt surrender, the hideous smirks seemed to grow beyond the limits of the barbarian faces. At the same time, the silver haired samurai unsaddled his horse and calmly strided over to the defenseless _daimyos_.

"Lord Clyne and Lord Zala I presume?" he asked in a militaristic manner already knowing the answer.

"Hai," the said lords replied in unison.

A smirk embedded the victorious silver haired samurai as he ordered the remaining men, now at five armoured men, to bond the lords along with their families and the remaining guard. Athrun, Nicol, and Waltfeld-san reluctantly submitted to the primal bondage by ropes as they watched disdainfully at the noble ladies being secured as well. After the dust settled, the noble families found themselves completely disarmed with their chosen weapons on a neat pile about ten paces in front of them. They were still near the burning castle while the remaining Duel samurai hawked over them in anticipation of orders.

The trigger-happy green-haired man once again reached for his rifle and in a crazed manner swung it dangerously about. The tip of the nuzzle threatening the lives of all who were in the vicinity. Athrun and the rest of the bonded people did not even waver for a minute. Their plight was simple to comprehend and each cunning mind deliberated on a way out.

"Shani stop that you moron," said the leader of the trio to the green-haired barbarian haphazardly. His language was definitely of European descent as it was only recognized by one of the noble family members who had some experience with their native tongue. The red-haired man smirked maniacally matching the evil intentions of his crazed comrade.

"Shut up Orga," the green-haired man spat back defiantly, "Fuck off Clotho."

The silver-haired samurai stepped in after the quick quarrel and spoke in a language that all could comprehend. "The _daimyos_ here are the only ones our lord said to bring back," concludingly he figured the last part to be true, "the rest do not matter."

The mischievous smirks grew even wider on the faces of the barbarians. A murderous glint glistened in the eyes of the green-haired man known as Shani. "Hmmm . . ." he pondered aloud wickedly, "I love the smell of a woman's blood," he stamped menacingly towards the binded noble ladies. His hand cupping the chin of Lady Clyne while the look in his eyes shoved involuntary shivers of fright down her spine. He placed her head down after he was satisfied with seeing the terror inside of the Lady though it did not materialize on the outside. He walked over to Lady Zala and the same happened. Finally, he stalked over to a certain pink-haired noble woman that had caught the eyes of all the opposing samurai on the battlefield unwillingly. The battle had drowned out the focus on the gorgeous girl and was replaced instead by male egotism for their efforts. Unlike the others, the woman amazed the crazed man. Not a single trickle of fear flashed in her beryl blue eyes. After recovering from the initial shock, it seemed the barbarian found his victim.

The silver-haired samurai scoffed at the notion. Barbarian cowards he thought. There was no honour in bringing down a defenseless and surrendering enemy. No less a woman of high fortitude. Meanwhile, the binded samurai watched in horror at what they saw as a universal sign of evil. Shani, the trigger-happy barbarian drew out his katana and licked the serrated edge of the blade. His tongue bled naturally from the incisions though his face contorted into a pleased look. Lord Zala analyzed the weapon as a new sword type, commonly referred to as _'shinto' _or 'new swords'. Elsewhere, spite grew openly in the eyes of the bonded men as they suppressed the fear they had for the lives of the Songstress of Sakura.

Almost immediately after Shani raised his blade towards the darkening sky, Lord Clyne staggered onto his feet and pleaded the man to stop with a coarse primal yell that emanated from the depths of his stomach. Shani stopped instinctively as the rest of the men threw a baffled look towards the angered _daimyo_. Lord Clyne appealed to the silver-haired samurai who seemed to have authority over the crazed trio.

"I'll do anything," he said worriedly--uncharacteristic of a samurai, "just don't hurt my daughter."

The silver-haired samurai's emotionless facade almost broke for a fleeting second but then returned to normal afterwards. The young man turned around in a motion that showed he could not do a thing about the situation. A menacing smirk grew on the lips of the green-haired barbarian as he resumed his position once again. Before he could swing the deathblow, he was stopped by the yell of a blue-haired samurai.

His emotions got the better of him as he spat vehemently towards the silver-haired samurai. "You are all cowards!"

At the insult, the silver-haired samurai instantly drew out his sword and was a hair away from the exposed neck of Athrun. An angered look was plastered on his face with his teeth bearing out. After a while, he placed his sword down and just as quick as his motions were, raised the sword back up again. The simple show clearly portrayed who was in the superior position at the moment. Athrun reluctantly backed down and tossed his head away, not wanting to watch his wife-to-be's head chopped off.

Impatient as he was, Shani resumed with his poised executioner stance. Eager to smell the pungent flow of blood. His smile twisted into a menacing grimace as his eyes glazed with the thrill of a kill. Orga and Clotho looked on with eager anticipation at the coming display of blood works. Every samurai save for Athrun looked on with a particular remorse suppressed in their emotionless exterior. They had all given up to the _karma_ of the woman to be this defining moment. Though a part of them wanted to stop the murder, no one was in the position to do so. Lord Clyne asked Athrun to look into the eyes of the woman and what he saw astonished him. Upon closer inspection, the beryl eyes constantly laced with altruistic kindness and compassion flared with an indomitable will. It was the will of a _samurai_.

After all, women were samurai as well.

The samurai who had taken notice were equally honoured and astonished to have seen eyes filled with pure courage in the face of death. That nagging part of them protested more forcefully into taking actions of their own. They did not want to see such a noble woman slain by a vile barbarian. In the end, they were unable to do anything.

The whirl of the blade upwards threw the air into a small vortex. The overhead stance poised to bring a swift death. The blade shimmered in the sunlight. A red tinge mirrored that of the flames of the castle. A silent hush smothered the moment in equal anticipation. Even the emotionless face of the silver-haired samurai shifted into that of expectancy. The fresh blood from the tongue of the barbarian still lingered on the blade. The eager edges craving for more. Pure blood was a delicacy. With a cry that mimicked that of a kitsune berating its opponent during mating season, Shani threw all of his barbarian might into the sword swing.

The blade swooped down with a frightening whirl.

A flash of an abnormal lightning bolt caused time to stand still.

The blade never reached its target.

With one swift slash that hurled the winds at speeds greater than _taí funs_, the death blade was shattered into pieces. Every armed samurai including the silver-haired leader were struck down with a tremendous power. The barbarians shared a similar plight. An overcast of dusty fog trailed the movement of lightning. Every samurai left conscious gasped a puff of eye-popping breath. The noble families were utterly awe-struck as if the lightning bolt zapped their bodies with a divine force sent from the Heavens personally.

In front of them . . . stood a warrior.

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	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

The day was dying like wildfire, the scene was dyed red, contrasted by the shadows that grew bolder. Fifteen paces in front of the noble family existed a child they all knew. They had just seen the boy earlier that day, but it seemed in a short time he had outgrown his shell. The slender physique squatted slowly over a peculiar spot in the dust. The holes in his tattered kimono stretched further from his movements while his brown hair fluttered in the wind. The trims of his unkempt kimono were scorched black. Five of his lefthand digits spiraled towards the earth. They grasped the hilt of a small dagger. It was his _wakizashi_.

A fierce look mounted his boyish features. There was something different about him. Yet it was indistinguishable like marking out the salt out of seawater. The young man took a lengthy gaze at the weapon in his hand. Or rather it was a precious gift. After realizing what needed to be done, he squeezed the _tsuka _tightly and valiantly tossed aside the tears that threatened his eyes. He returned the dagger into its rightful place beside an empty _saya_. The missing long sword was wielded in his right hand firmly. The tip of the blade etched a small wound in the earth. The boy slowly walked over towards the bounded group. Each step of his feet causing an involuntary shudder amongst the befuddled samurai. A small trail made by his katana led him to the binded and bewildered noble ladies.

A billion questions flooded the minds of all who bore witness. The ropes that once binded the group seemed to fall off like a ripe flower from an aging tree. Lady Clyne and Lady Zala could not bear to look into the eyes of the boy, for an insuppressible fear of what they might find beckoned them not to. Lady Lacus chanced her curiosity. What she saw frightened her inside. A gentle and kind look filled his light streaked gleaming whitened violet eyes. They were so different, she had partly believed to have imagined his eyes of a different colour. A soft smile planted on his lips. Lacus' breath hitched at his presence. Her heart pounded in her ears. An unfamiliar warmth encompassed her whole being. She was shaking from the inside out. Kira hardly recognized, but brushed the thoughts quickly aside. He needed to fulfill his duty.

Soon, the bindings on the men were cut loose effortlessly. For a time, no one stood up and no one spoke. The young saviour quietly turned his head back looking over yonder. Athrun was the first to recover as he staggered onto his feet. The rest of the conscious party followed suit afterwards. They were all still silent. Athrun decided to chance himself and committed to getting the boy's attention. His hand reached out gliding through the air as a mild draft shook his motions slightly. Before his hand reached its destination, the boy swiftly turned around. His rigid face beckoning a sense of urgency and unknown authority. He simply said to the group, "Go. _Hayaku_."

The horses of the noble group appeared out of thin air. Each member perched atop a mighty stallion. All but one young man. They zoomed across to the _Ha-no-mon _Gate that was unknown to the youth until he had seen it. The brunette surprisingly kept up with the speed of the samurai cavalry. He stopped abruptly before the entrance of the gate. The noble family had not noticed until they were a good twenty paces ahead. Athrun was the first to notice. He reined his horse to stop and turned around quickly, baffled by his pause. The rest of the group stopped in their tracks as well. Though all but two returned to the brunette's side. The rest were contented in being barely in earshot.

Athrun unsaddled his horse in a smooth like fashion and offered the horse kindly, believing the boy was tired. The brunette declined silently. Nicol trotted back carefully, being the loyal subject he was, he allowed Athrun to have some space with the boy.

"Kira?" Athrun asked now completely confused.

"I will hold them back," Kira said simply.

"Baka!" Athrun said completely opposed to such nonsense.

"There is not much time," he responded dryly.

"You will come with us!" Lord Clyne interjected, shame pricked its way into his kind heart. He sensed the same feeling emanate from his wife and daughter. He had even felt the same premonition with Lady Zala.

"_Iýe_," Kira said defiantly, his voice laced with a seriousness that surprised even he himself.

"As your liege lord, I order you--"

"With all do respect," Kira smiled, interrupting as politely as he could, "I'm no _samurai_. Nor have I plead my effort to your cause." The entire group was taken aback by the truth of his words. He was no samurai. Nor was he technically an ally. Lord Clyne was speechless. The boy was right.

"Kira come with us!" Athrun asserted.

"_Iýe_," Kira stated, "you must go," instantly a blade shot up towards Athrun's neck poised to kill, "or die here."

At the notion of Kira's threat, all were once again flabbergasted. Lord Zala was the first to recover and promptly demanded the group to move forward. No one moved an inch. Kira drew his sword back. A small genial smile grew on his lips. Athrun was baffled by Kira's capricious actions. A small nod encouraged the blue-haired samurai onto horseback. Reluctantly, Athrun saddled his horse. His emerald eyes never leaving the brunette's face. A comforting hand was draped on his shoulder beckoning his attention instantly. Nicol smiled at him genially, believing in the boy's words. He believed in _karma_. He felt that this was the boy's time. Hesitantly, Athrun bridled his horse forward.

Halfway back towards the rest of the group, Athrun turned around one last time. What he saw shook him viciously with the strength of a mild earthquake. The noble families followed suit. In a sign of utmost respect, Kira had bowed very low to their retreating forms with his sword stabbed in the earth in front of him. The metal gleamed a tinge of orange from the waning sun. His medium lengthy brown hair draped sullenly covering his head. His small frame protruding from the earth like a stone memorial.

From the distance, the noble families could barely make out an engraving on the katana. Silent sadness lurked in their heavy hearts. They all knew what it was. After all, it was in noble script. They had just realized an important question that completely vexed them. When did he have sword?

For Athrun, such a question was trivial. He could no longer bear the enormous weight burdening his righteous mind. His mind was in a reckless amount of clutter. He began to question what was truth and what was deceit. He wanted to know the truth. There was one thing he knew for sure though. Kira was still his precious friend. He did not want him to die.

Athrun swiftly turned around his horse, surprising the nobles. Nicol followed after. Kira was rising slowly onto his feet. A small smile graced his lips as he thought his precious friend would do such a thing. In a matter of seconds, Athrun was once again in front of him. His emerald orbs more determined than before. The rest of the group watched on with a suppressed sense of urgency.

"Kira come with--"

"_Iýe_," Kira responded before he could finish, "you must go, they are coming." His head motioned towards the direction of the castle, a small group of figures rising from the earth slowly. An increasingly louder raucous erupting behind the donjon. The ground trembling in an ominous warning.

"They will kill you!" Athrun verbally protested.

"They will kill you," Kira responded calmly.

"Baka! You can escape with us! There is no need to throw your life away here!" Athrun reasoned getting worked up by the minute, "You must remain alive!" He loathed Kira's fatalism. He did not understand why Kira was so insistent on being such a moron. He did not want his precious friend to die.

Kira's amethyst eyes shuttered from view followed by an elongated sigh. Before his lips moved, his eyes opened showing a deep virtue and the strength of his resolve. His hands dipped inside his shabby kimono. Athrun did not realize what Kira was doing until he saw what was pulled out. It was the _wakizashi_. "Today . . . I had already died," he smiled warmly rendering Athrun's resolution useless. Athrun finally figured it all out. Tears unfitting for a noble samurai threatened his eyes. Kira gazed at him in a silent plea for understanding. Athrun's mind still screamed objection. He could not accept.

Using that familiar lightning speed, the empty _saya_ in the brunette's _obi_ lashed out swiftly laying out the blue-haired samurai. Nicol and the rest of the samurai were aghast by the brunette's brash actions. Lord Zala was by far the most upset about the cowardly act. Kira strung the scabbard back into his _obi_ and picked up the unconscious body. With some effort, he managed to toss Athrun into Nicol's hands. His head nodded for comprehension and Nicol understood. Kira smiled at the green-haired samurai.

"Excuse me . . ." Kira started to inquire, "can you please give this to Lady Lacus-sama?"

He fished out the object from his kimono and placed it into Nicol's free hand. The green-haired samurai had a questioning look on his face for awhile, but a small appreciative smiled lined the brunette's face so he was forced to happily oblige such a request. He did owe the boy a favor. They all did. The rumble of the earth shook them all from their dreamy reverie. Athrun's eyes opened lazily. His questioning gaze looking towards his friend's eyes. Kira walked closer to Athrun's side and whispered genially, "Arigatou my friend . . . for everything," a small smile lined his lips as he knew Athrun was soon to pass out, "You must remain alive, Lord Athrun-sama." Athrun's eyes snapped shut, the throbbing dull pain in his neck beckoned him to.

Kira nodded farewell to the green-haired samurai. Nicol quickly rode up alongside the noble group. Their eyes hadn't left the young man's form. Kira placed the dagger beside his long sword's _saya_. He walked up to his earthed katana. His hand grasped the hilt of the sword and in a swift moment, unearthed the weapon. He wiped the sand tipped edge with his burned kimono. A mild breeze unveiled his violet eyes to the nobles and he turned away.

The rattle of the earth grew impatient. The silver-haired leader and his fellow group had risen to their feet. Anger arose from them considerably. They saddled their horses and glared at the culprit menacingly. The trample of countless thousands of samurai emerged from the incinerated castle.

The lone figure went to the other side of the Ha-no-mon Gate. With one last longing look, he threw two swift strokes to the supports of the boxed roofing of the gate. The raised structure collapsed onto the earth blocking the only exit down the back of the mountain. The noble families had all realized what Kira had done. Even Lord Zala acknowledge that the boy's actions was not at all brash nor were they cowardly. They began their journey to Zaft in solemn silence. Kira faced his death courageously. Not a single ounce of regret lingered in his body. This was his _karma_.

In front of him stood the faces of ten thousand samurai and growing. Armed with spears, swords, and longbows. All poised to kill. The men clad in armour at the forefront glared menacingly. The silver-haired samurai channeling all of his ire at his very being.

"Fool! Do you know what you have done?" screeched the leading samurai.

Kira did not so much as budge an inch from the darkened voice. He was not afraid.

"Answer me peasant!"

"_Iýe_," Kira replied simply.

"Lord Yzac, may I have the honour of ridding this fool," spoke a battle-experience man out of the crowd of brown kimono samurai.

"No you will not," responded Yzac firmly, "he will die by my hands."

"_Iýe_," Kira replied simply invoking more anger to seep out of opposing samurai.

Simultaneously, the two poised their swords into battle. Before they charged, Yzac scoffed at the obvious amateur in front of him. He laughed, "Ha! you defeat me? You are nothing but a coward. You cannot even hold the sword the right way. What a fool!"

The rest of the thousands of samurai laughed in the same manner. The laughter died as Kira charged Yzac. Yzac read his movements easily and swiftly blocked the onslaught. Yzac berated himself for having fallen to such a novice swordsman. There was not a blinding speed in the brunette's thrust. There was nothing special about him. To Yzac, he was pathetic. Yzac had superior skill with the sword. Years of intense training toughened him significantly. Yzac let the boy expend much of his energy while dodging conservatively. After scores of missed, blocked, and dodged slashes, Kira's stamina wavered. His chest heaving for air. Ever so confident in his superiority, Yzac dared a small laugh at the amateur opposition. A move he would later regret.

Seeing an opportunity open up, Kira whirled his sword high above his head using the last remnants of his strength. With a powerful downward swing, he forced the blade of the silver-haired samurai to slither out of his grasp. Taken aback and angered, Yzac quickly reached out for the dagger in his obi. Sensing his movement, Kira summoned the depths of his strength and drew out lightning from his body. Kira twirled the blade and thrusted it downwards using the upward momentum to bring a devastating blow to the side of Yzac's neck. Yzac had fallen.

Silence ensued. Soon after anger had trailed. Outraged by the defeat of an allied lord, the legions of men one by one challenged the young swordsman to a duel.

At the death of the sun, Kira emerged with legions of bodies sprawled over the earth. His fragile frame was smothered with injuries. Blood profusely trickled out of his wounds. Spears had punctured him. Swords gashed him. Arrows embedded him. His line of sight blurred mixing the thousands of brown kimono samurai into a giant heap of dung. Another samurai stepped in front of him. Faintly he noticed the man having been turned away. A different coloured kimono raised his sword signaling the beginning of the duel. Kira smiled lazily. He drew his sword upwards half-consciously. He knew his time was coming.

The light in his violet eyes was fading into the darkness . . . He was dying.

The noble family rode for the remainder of the day in a solemn silence. A simple image engraved in their minds. It was of the boy that saved their lives. The tender smile that could be seen from two thousand paces away. Tattered and burned kimono and all. His sword wounded in the crust of the earth. His violet eyes filled with genuine kindness. Not a single trace of regret dotted his face.

The stars shimmered overhead while ominous clouds gathered. A small encampment was made and everyone save for one person gathered around the campfire. The hill they were perched upon was covered by a thick forest. They took a shortcut only the _daimyos_ knew existed. Boaz was almost in sight.

They were safe. Plenty of food was served, but no one ate. Even in the darkened night, the air grew thick choking the life out of the small embers. They could all talk, but no spoke. A huge billow of smoke arose from a peculiar area. The sight still evident from over twenty thousand paces. Though impossible, the sound of terrifying battle cries could still be heard. The rumble of the ground ceased to exist. All was quiet.

Athrun was in complete turmoil within himself. His fists clenched in anger partly at himself and partly at the friend he lost. He accepted the fate he chose, but he did not accept his loss. He was not given the chance to apologize. He should have known how much Kira treasured that gift. His eyes never left one figure in front of him. The flickering of flames undeterring his piercing emerald eyes.

"Why?" he asked simply.

"Nani?" Lord Zala replied cautiously.

"Why did you do it?"

"I did what I had to do," the _daimyo_ replied sharply, leaving no room for argument.

"What? What do you mean--"

"With all due respect Athrun-sama," a blonde haired noble guard interjected, "but you're father has lived to see more years than you have. Do you not remember your place from his place on this earth?"

Athrun glared at the offending man. He never did like him. "Rey . . ."

The harsh reality struck Athrun like a _taí fun_. Another young woman had been equally enlightened. During their trip towards the camp, they were finally taught the social hierarchy of Japan. Kira was a servant. They were nobles. The very thought shook them to the cores. They berated their own blindness.

"In any case, there was nothing that could be done. He himself chose to die, did he not? Lord Zala did not choose for him to die, did he not?" Rey replied smartly knowing he had outmaneuvered the young lord. Lord Clyne, Lady Clyne and Lady Zala all looked at embers forlornly. A part of their hearts rebutting Rey's remark, though it was true.

Lady Clyne finally gracefully uprighted herself. Her small feet led her to a small pathway hidden by the thick brush and abundant trees. She leaned onto the cold bark of a tree, watching her daughter in the clearing carefully from afar. The long pink locks flowing freely now, no longer tied into a neat bun. Her petite frame and naturally pale skin illuminated breathtakingly by the small streaks of light from the heavens. She was the envy of all who had seen her. Even Lady Clyne herself would be naturally jealous if not for the fact she was the maternal figure of the epitome of perfection. From afar, Lacus Clyne had it all. The looks, the nobility, the fiance, the sincerity, the fame, the talent, the strength, the courage. Her life was perfect. She was perfect.

Lady Clyne knew much wiser. Perhaps it was a familial bonding that allowed her the foresight into her daughter's being. Or perhaps it was because she did not turn a blind eye to Lacus' weaknesses and flaws. Lady Clyne saw the tears that marred her daughter's beautiful au naturel face. Her face scrunched in utter sadness. The baby blue eyes gazed into the bright crescent moon wistfully. Her tiny delicate fingers wrapped into a small bundle. There was a peculiar object clasped tightly yet softly within them. She smiled a sad smile knowingly. It was an origami.

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	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

The fetid stench of the air lingered humidly over a one man wooden cell block. For Kira, it was a hellish night, but it had become the norm. The vile and dirty room he found himself in could not have been bigger than five paces wide and five paces long. A scarce amount of pale light shown through the wooden boards and beams of the cramping ceiling, barely signaling the light of the moon. He was bare from his waist down to his waist up. He had thinned considerably yet grown with muscles. Overworked and underfed, his bones ached while his skin became blotchy with patches of blood and fresh wounds. His bare feet became as calloused as his hands that shook violently, but not of his own will.

Two dried rivers of tears lined his cheeks. The dirt on his face almost covering up the wounds. His eyes darkened with a lining of a matching blackish purple under them. The wounds on his back stung like the lashings he took from a _jitte_ had just happened recently. It was quite a while since he received a routine punishment--just before he had been fed once for the day. Everyday was like this. The _doshin_ guards took pleasure in hearing the screams that came from the lashings. Repeated beatings from the weapon seemed to exaggerate the pain tenfold as if he were being beaten by ten guards at the same time.

The stark room was repulsing but peaceful save for the flies that buzzed around. The quiet night almost seemed too endearing for his awful stay. The snotty mud that his feet indulged in seemed to slop within the passing of the days. He had no idea how long he had been held captive. He was too tired to think what day it was, which hour of the beast it was, where his clothes had gone. His eyes trailed in and out of reality. He was looking at nothing while looking at the darkness at the same time. His head was hunched over while his hands fell limply into the mucky floor that was his bed. He could not even feel the hairs on his back, he was frightened and broken to the point in which almost nothing mattered.

His position soured his back enough for him to shift into a posture of the lesser of two evils. He released a deep breath of emptiness as his shaking hands dug into the sloppy earth to steady himself. With a difficult and long struggle, he managed to place his head on the solid stone wall to his rear. He gazed at the small trails of light that passed through the cracks of the roof. His feet balled in with his body, unable to stretch from the tininess of the room. He wondered why he was still living. Why he was still breathing. Why he was still struggling. He didn't want to go through it anymore. He was tired of this life. He was shamed of death and cheated out of glory humiliatingly by his captives. He faintly remembered that day when his life had changed.

He had beaten quite a few samurai that day. He could still feel the wounds from the swords, spears and arrows. The same trickle of blood was there. He had not known how much of the crimson liquid had seeped out of his small body.

A blonde man nearing his middle ages drew his sword up. Kira did likewise only ungracefully. There was no strength left in his body as he became desperate. His other hand searched the hilt of his _wakizashi_. Immediately the other samurai with a darkish grey kimono realized what he was doing and charged in. Effortlessly he batted Kira's sword away as his hand grasped the hilt of the small dagger, preventing him from doing the unthinkable. With much effort, Kira had managed to throw the samurai off balance enough with a desperate shove and made for the dagger. He grasped in his weary hands and pointed it straight at his throat. The blonde soon recovered. He smiled amusedly and menacingly at the same time as he swiftly delivered a blow with the blunt edge of his sword to Kira's neck, knocking him out. The blonde grasped the boy with one hand, steadying him up and not letting him fall towards the earth. He sheathed the small dagger back, taking a quick look at it.

By the time, Yzac had come to he noticed most of his men were staggering onto their feet. He looked around to see a familiar figure carrying another familiar figure.

"Commander Rau Le Creuset . . ."

"Ah Yzac. We will be heading back now, please watch over this boy."

"Nani?"

"Do not kill this boy. Understand?"

"B-but he has lost! He should kill himself."

"You have lost as well Yzac," the silver-haired samurai almost popped a vain until Rau spoke up, "now, now. You need not be angry. He is no samurai. . . At least not yet. . ." A cynical chuckle escaped his lips as he tossed the boy into the unwelcoming arms of the silver-haired samurai.

Kira sighed. He no longer wanted to think about the fuzzy past. His head spun on its own already. He was tired. Hungry. Sad. Alone. And his hands were still shaking. He couldn't bear to look at his hands. He had recently done the unthinkable. He could not forgive himself. But he knew he just had to see his life through. There was something that he couldn't put his mind to, but some thing had wanted him to live.

A familiar cynical chuckle broke the boy from his reverie.

He looked up to find someone he did not want to see or ever see.

"Kira-kun. It is _that_ time again."

"Rau . . ." Kira whispered while looking at him angrily.

"Now, now, Kira-kun."

A cynical chuckle escaped his lips once more as he brought out his weapon of choice. It was the _jitte_.

By the end of the night. Kira had become bruised once more. His skin marked with fresh new wounds. His eyes teared once more. Fresh trail of crimson liquid leaked from his forehead. The wounds and tears had not hurt him. Rather it was what he had done that had hurt him. Alone in the darkness of his cell he was crying silently. Wishing he was dead.

The light in his eyes was fading. He was dying.

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of sympathetic crimson eyes peered down onto his shriveled up form.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Ever since that day when Junius Five fell--three hundred and sixty five suns have settled. Three hundred and sixty five moons have passed. Over the course of that time, the vast landscape of the Land of the Rising Sun altered considerably. _Nihon_ itself did not change, rather it was the people that did.

War spanned across the horizon like the vast sunlight.

The noble families that escaped a year ago never found out about the plight of the courageous boy that had saved them. They had often sent their best spy, Nicol, to return to Gujo Hachiman. He would always come back empty handed. The only news he brought was the scorched state of Lord Clyne's castle. On the one hundred eighty sixth sun, Nicol did not return. He sent a letter informing Lord Clyne of his request to stay in an undisclosed area to which the _daimyo _reluctantly obliged. Nicol also sent a letter informing them of the grave news that he always had. The nobles would have to set the matter aside and looked towards the future. There was not even a single trail left of the boy. If he was not alive, then he was dead. If he was captured, he might as well be dead. Buddha does know after all what was done to captives. That was his _karma_ though. The one he had chosen. The path he chose to follow. There was no way he could have stood up against those odds, yet he took up the sword and tried. Why did he try? Why did he help? Why did he die?

Those questions had always tore away at the noble families even though they knew they had to move on. In particular were two youths who had grown attached to the spirit of the boy that had protected them.

Athrun finally became _samurai_. The kind that no longer enjoyed life and devoted his to bringing peace through his sword. His features were now raw and rugged. War torn and battle experienced. His emerald eyes held a fierce glint in them. Gone were the innocence and ignorance he had enjoyed in childhood. He had changed. His values remained the same but it was the air in which he breathed that varied. He became the captain of Lord Zala's First Army, better known as Vesalius. He quickly emerged as the strongest warrior in all of Zaft's Legions. He wore a red kimono with black trimmings that signified his elite stature. He was a saviour in Boaz, and a hero to Zaftians.

Lady Lacus devoted her life to bringing peace as well, though she did not know what a she could do. Her father had not made her into a warrior. Her cheerful attitude and carelessness had remained in tact. But it was for her people's sake. Not hers. She often found singing rather a task than a habitual pleasure. Though her songs were still enjoyed by many, she herself rarely found joy in it. Her songs were sung with an underlying tone of sadness that could slightly be picked up with a keen ear. Nevertheless, her voice was still quite influential as she had remained the Songstress of Sakura that warmed the cold hearts of many samurai. Athrun was a different matter. Her touch no longer coerced him as his features roughened to a point where she could barely recognize him. They were still getting married. She had rarely seen him without his military uniform and indifferent face on. In fact she rarely saw him at all. The countless battles he had gone off to prevented them from seeing each other. In the lonesome times, her mind would often stray to the boy who had wantonly saved them all. She longed to see him again, though she knew that was not possible.

The noble families had harbored safe refuge in the lands of Zaft for almost a year. In the year's time, they knew the invasion of Junius Five was no outside job. Someone trusted had given them away. The perfect time to attack. The knowledge of the secret gate. And the particular squad sent to capture them. The evidence amounted enough to turn all of Lord Zala's hair a powdery white like the substance that fell from the skies during the freezing months. They were in war with a notorious alliance of powerful _daimyo_. The brown-kimono samurai. The Duel Samurai led by the warrior family of Joule. They were indeed up against the EA. But they couldn't put their fingers on why they were attacked so suddenly. Why was the _fief_ of Lord Clyne's the only one to be all out assaulted? Plant was a peaceful province and their lands were prosperous. The only logical reason for invasion was for the large amounts of _koku_ that Plant had produced. Lord Clyne had over a domain of a surplus in one hundred thousand _koku_. He was a great and wealthy _daimyo_, but he was peaceful. So why?

For every month, an attack was staged by the EA. Boaz had held out against the waves and waves of invading brown kimono samurai. For each wave, the nobles narrowly escaped tragedy. Yet they never progressed in the war. Plant lands were still occupied by the EA. Lord Clyne's power kept diminishing as he came to rely on the _koku_ that Lord Zala produced. The war was taking its toll. There was something amiss about the battles though. It seemed as if they were not fully reinforced and seemed to be a diversion at times.

Nevertheless, the string of endless battles forced their hands to a desperate call. They had dangerously risked their lives and the lives of many others for this one chance. Samurai did not like to gamble, nor was gambling a cause of entertainment. A small traveling army traversed across the land on horseback.

The noble families' plan was made spontaneously. Lord Clyne had brewed the plan that way in order to save his family from treachery. In the bed of the night five moons ago, they had escaped with a small portion of their most trusted army--the Silver Wind squadron. They were a specially trained group of prime to middle age warriors all donning expensive pink kimono and swords of high quality. They had left a significant portion of the the army division in Boaz in order to defend Zaft lands. Lord Clyne was confident in the abilities of the Eternal so it did not matter if they're numbers were small. They were more mobile in a smaller group as well. All rode on horseback in order to make up for time. Every moment was necessary so comfort had to be sacrificed.

The group neared the city of the Emperor of Japan. Onogoro, Orb. There stood the greatest castle of all. Orb Castle. For months on end, the noble families were unable to get in touch with the Imperial Ones. The carrier pigeons that flew from Zaft to Orb were all conveniently burned to the ground. And the ones raised to deliver messages shared a similar fate. In the past, the Clynes and Zalas all had been in favor of the _Tennō. Their daughters having been the best of friends. They had even used to send letters through the winged messengers, but ever since that fateful day, almost everything had changed._

The nobles had often felt as if they were being watched over by divine spirits, which inclined them to take this chance. A chance certainly was better than sitting around waiting for death to reach them. They were confident in reaching the city before sunset. That is until they reached over a small pass and climbed over a hill. What they saw angered many but were prepared for battle.

A familiar feeling of betrayal had arisen in the pits of their stomach. They were in danger. They had been cut off by a small army who seemed to have been prepped for battle a few moments ago. Their brown kimono were tattered and unkempt, it seemed as if they weren't a part of EA even though they were. The opposing army were all on horseback. Though their horses were of an inferior breed, the brown samurai outnumbered the nobles two to one. Lady Lacus had wanted to speak out to the opposing army but Athrun and the nobles knew her speech was futile. The other army was committed. They even felt a sense of desperation from them. There was no need for introductions. Their makeshift flags of EA raised high above the plains, mounted sloppily on a few of their smaller horses.

Athrun and a group of Silver Wind Samurai escorted Lady Lacus towards the back with the other nobles to protect her from the enemies. A fierce battle ensued. The nobles and Eternal had figured the best chance they had were to pound right through. With their goal in view, they charged bravely through the small army of about two hundred brown samurai.

Waltfeld-san led the charge while Athrun and the _daimyos_ stayed back to protect the noble ladies. Clashes of metal rang about. Hundreds of weapons ringing in a sadistic harmony. In the onset of the battle, there was no clear decision of who would win or not. The highly skilled Silver Wind proved to stem the tide against the numbers. It had seemed the Silver Wind would eventually win out, they're confidence increasing with every shriek of metal. They were overpowering their combatants easily, as they had reduced their numbers by a quarter without losing any casualties. The sense of desperation hung thick in the air as the Browns, who were deemed the name from Waltfeld-san, were beginning to fall back.

A last ditch effort was made by the captain of the squad as he rallied a portion of his troops. They concentrated a furious attack in a makeshift gathered phalanx of brown kimono samurai and charged directly at the nobles in the back. Soon they were able to separate Athrun and the _daimyos_ from the noble women.

The noble samurai tried their hardest to fight back against the rushing tide that threatened to overwhelm them. The brown kimono samurai had relinquished their charge and retreated promptly. They had only the objective of pushing out the warriors in exchange for one of the lives of the nobles. Waltfeld-san was irate at the being caught offguard and realized the Browns were after a quick victory instead of trying to win completely. He rallied the Silver Wind to aid the nobles and soon the phalanx was broken as another quarter of the Browns had been slain. Waltfeld-san thought they were in the safe clearing as the numbers were even, but the skill level of the combatants were to their advantage. He was proven wrong though.

A brown kimono samurai left behind found his victim. He who had gotten in close seized the opportunity to strike down someone who seemed important.

His target was . . . Lacus Clyne.

The samurai's hand rose deftly above, his sword poised to deliver a killing blow. Lord Clyne and Lord Zala were speechless and preengaged in battle with over a dozen samurai. Athrun and the rest of the Silver Wind could only watch in horror. They were all in no position to aid the noblewoman. As a symbol of peace, she was one of the few samurai, if not the only samurai to be unarmed. She was helpless, yet she stared death in its eyes without fear.

"Laaacccuuusss!" Lord Clyne yelled in vain.

The samurai did not hesitate. The blade pointed upwards with casts of sunlight illuminating its serrated edges. The glint of the metal shone a tint of crimson, an awful premonition of what he was about to do. He himself did not know what he was doing, nor did he know who he was trying to kill. All he knew was that he was desperate. He needed to do this. The beautiful lady would have to forgive him. He hoped it would be enough. With one battle cry asking for forgiveness, he swung the blade downwards with all his might. The vortex created by the sword swirled menacingly.

The sword never reached its target.

An arrow had whirled past everyone's line of sight at searing speeds. It struck the hand of the man right before his sword sliced through pale skin. His blurring vision led to his bleeding hand shaking profusely until it dropped the sword. He turned to look in the direction that arrow had come from and his veins froze in horror. Even a samurai like he could not prevent the nature of his sanity. He screamed in fright, "_Setsu_--". Before he could finish, his head was cleanly sliced off. His head fell onto the ground with a small thump while his horse turned wild and ran away from the battlefield. All had paused to catch a brief glance of what or who had done such a thing. By the time they knew it, there were no longer any brown samurai standing with a breath of life in their bodies.

Lady Lacus eyes widened in shock.

A cloaked warrior on horseback was riding in controlled ferocity. They could not distinguish who the person was. All they saw was the blazing speed in which he used to take down all the Browns. Their eyes could barely keep up with his movements as the _yumi_ he must have used to release the arrow was tucked in the sash of the jet black horse he rode. It was a fine beast with a black mane that equaled its dark complexion. The straps of the leather bridle could barely be seen even in the day. The strong muscles of the beast flexed in superiority.

The hooded warrior drew out his blade skillfully and had decapitated the lone brown cleanly. The apparent samurai then dashed to the towards the remaining army of Browns and proceeded to dispose of them equally quickly. He skillfully stood on his horse without the reins showing a connection with the beast and jumped from horse to horse. Samurai to samurai. The unrelenting blade making quick work of the trembling men. The longbow specialty samurai located further from the group of slain samurai fell victim to a shower of metal shards. The finely crafted custom made shuriken gleamed in the sunlight protruding from the jugular veins of its embedded victims who died on impact.

Athrun and the noble families were utterly bewildered, but grateful.

In almost an instant, the entire army were all slain in a matter of seconds. It was a gruesome sight. Corpses fell onto the ground all lifeless. Arms, legs, hands, and heads had all been laid on the ground. A sea of crimson had puddled over the battlefield. The noble women were all petrified and relieved at the same time. They had never seen such a gruesome sight even through the many battles they had encountered. It was the speed and the swiftness that made the sight ghastly.

The lone man on horseback had gone over a little ways from the noble group's location after he finished the last of the Browns. He had reined his horse about a thousand paces from the gates of Onogoro. Then slowly unsaddled the black beast and calmly petted it. The horse neighed in pleasure, highly appreciative of the kind recognition. After the horse was satisfied, the hooded man turned his attention back to the party that he had just saved.

Recovering from the aftermath, Athrun led the way over to their apparent saviour. They stopped about twenty paces in front of him, just enough distance to take a better view at the samurai.

The Silver Wind and the rest of the party were on guard. This man was incredibly dangerous even though he had only slain their enemies. He had wiped out an entire army, though small, by himself in a manner of seconds. A long flowing light brown cloak covered his entire body. There were small holes and a few rips all over, but none too showing of the samurai within. They had acknowledged that the man was no common samurai. He was different. There was an air of fear, power, and courage that permeated from his body. They could see strength in the hands that wielded a blade from a distance. They were gloved in a dark black matching his crepuscular theme. The hood of his coat covered his head mysteriously and it seemed the sword he was carrying had disappeared within the cloak. There was a long awkward silence that lingered in the air. Athrun and his party had been staring agape at the cloaked man. Their minds deep in wonder, awe, and confusion.

The nobles could not believe it. They had barely made out a eerily familiar engraving that was on the base of the sword the man carried. His movements were too fast to tell decisively. They brushed the thought aside, seeing as they could have easily hallucinated the whole thing.

Before long, two samurai on horseback came riding towards the group. They were Orb Samurai. The lion crest on the center of an oblong strip of white fabric had identified their high rank. Another four circular insignias were located on the right side of their breast, one on each arm, and another on the center of their backs. Their daunting belted white and blue kimono fit snugly on their bodies showing the wealth of the Emperor extravagantly. They stopped near the cloaked samurai. In closer view, they could tell exactly what those insignias implied. A small bluish flower of flowers adorned the left side of the chests of the samurai--they were _kikukamonshō _a type of flower crest that solely belonged to the Tennōhimself. The Silver Wind Samurai had dropped their guard ever so slightly, seeing as they felt protection under the Emperor's men. However, their minds did not stray far too long from the one who had saved Lady Lacus and decimated the opposing army. The two who were on horseback had quickly jumped off. One was a female with short messy blonde hair and purple eyes while the other was a male with dark black hair and fierce red eyes. The two had quickly exchanged glances with the noble party and returned their attention to the cloaked samurai. They had politely bowed to the man. The man had bowed back with lesser politeness as was required, showing his evidently higher rank.

Confusion ran amuck within the noble forces, but were nonetheless a little relieved. The man was a part of the Emperor's forces or so they thought. The two Orb Samurai returned their attention to the noble group and walked closer towards them. The red-eyed man came within a head of Athrun and the _daimyos_ who were in the forefront of the group.

"State your business here," he said briskly. An air of arrogance whirled around him, yet their was a powerful nature that resonated along with it. Though his fierce red eyes showed only anger, it was evident that he was a just young man. The quiet and reserved blonde girl beside him had a smile planted on her lips countering the arrogance of the black haired boy. She had poked him in the side in jest which earned her a mock glare. It seemed the blonde was one of the rare female samurai who were allowed to be armed with a katana. She held a powerful demeanor and seemed worthy of the sword.

"We are here to see the emperor," Athrun responded calmly.

"What for?"

"That is our business to know."

"That is my business to know."

"With all respect--"

"To hell with your respect," the black haired boy responded angrily, "I demand to know your reasons here. I am of the Emperor's forces and it is my duty to inquire such knowledge."

"Excuse me young samurai," Lord Clyne interjected politely, "But it is of utmost importance that we have audience with the Emperor. We cannot state our business for it is a must in order to prevent treac--"

"It doesn't matter how important you say your business is," the samurai said arrogantly, "there has been several attempts at the life of the Living God. You will not pass until you have state--"

"Young boy," Lord Zala beseeched in the same arrogance, having had enough of the disrespecting manners of the samurai and decided to use his own, "first of all, you are not in a position to give orders as you are clearly outnumbered and second of all, I am Lord Zala and this is Lord Clyne who you are rudely speaking to. I demand you let us through--"

"First of all, numbers don't matter jackass," the samurai said stressing the last part to irritate the man even more, "second of all, it doesn't matter who you are. I demand you state your business."

Athrun, Lord Clyne, and Lord Zala was stunned at first, not having been used at being barked back at.

"Wait . . . Did you say Lord Zala and Lord Clyne?" Shinn asked in a calmer tone with his brow arched in curiosity.

Seeing the moment of discomfort on behalf of the young man, Lord Zala puffed his chest up and boldly declared, "Yes you simpleton. I am Lord Zala and he is indeed Lor--"

The _daimyo_ never finished his sentence as Shinn whipped out his sword swiftly. A flash of seething anger flashed on his features as he summoned a wind that swirled upwards as the gleaming metal lustered in the sunlight. A small engraving was etched near the base of the blade. It had said Impulse. The name of the sword fitting the brash young man.

"Those cowards deserve to die!" Shinn yelled wielding the sword dangerously over his head. He was stopped by the blonde beside him, relaxing him with her hand tightly gripped on his hands while her other arm grasped his kimono. After a while she had calmed him enough so that his blade no longer poised for battle. He curiously looked back at the cloaked man and didn't see an ounce of emotion as the man seemed clouded in his own thoughts and looking off to the distance. He knew what he was doing though, he was praying. He turned back around and glared daggers with the ability to kill. The blonde beside him had then looked at him earnestly which caused him to stop his attitude.

"Heh. Don't believe for a minute that I don't believe you cowards deserve to die," the young samurai said smugly with his firm grip still on his lowered sword.

The nobles were in a state of confusion and shock. They were angered by the gall of the young man though he was one of the Emperor's soldiers. Orb samurai were known for their respectful and just and reserved nature. The rest of the Silver Wind were equally stunned and angered as well. Their hands poised to grasp their swords at the second of an order. The nobles were about to respond until the cloaked man stepped in and placed a hand on the red-eyed samurai's shoulder.

"That's enough Shinn. Let them pass. They mean no harm," the cloaked man said mysteriously, his voice having an air of command imbued in it. The sound of his voice sent an involuntary chill down all of the noble families spines. There was something familiar about the voice, but it was different as well. They had no time to ponder on the thought of the sound as the red-eyed samurai reluctantly conceded to the man's request after eyeing him keenly. He gave one last glare at the _daimyos_, and sheathed his sword slowly. He turned to the cloaked man and politely bowed him once more. The blonde in silence did the same and the two Orb Samurai walked back to their respective horses and saddled them. They had nodded towards the cloaked man and then turned back, riding in the same pace as they had came.

The cloaked man had turned his attention to the utterly bewildered group. A small ray of light illuminated his firm jaw line and showed off a part of his lips. The tanned skin showed lightly as his gloved hands retreated under the cloak.

"Gomen ne," he said in a kind tone surprising the group once more.

A faint smile could be seen lining the visible portion of his lips.

"_Shigata ga nai_," the man said simply.

The nobles particularly Athrun, Lord Clyne and Lady Lacus had all gasped in disbelief.

_'It can't be . . .'_ they all thought.

The cloaked man turned back around. The long flowing mantle whirling back with him pushing the wind around. The air of strength chasing him towards the horse. He easily saddled the beast and rode back swiftly, making no time to disappear into the first gate of the city.

Orb castle was still a long ways over. The towering figure stood sturdy seemingly overshadowing the giant mountain it was perched upon. It was of a pearly white paint that often inherited the name of _Shirasagijo_, or White Heron Castle for resembling the elegance of the white bird in flight. It was an architectural work of art, yet of an ingenious design. The castle had utilized a bountiful amount of stone for the walls to fortify its structure as well as every city gate. Usually wood was used for construction of the gates and much of the castle but the Divine City seemed to have not spared any resources. A veil of protection and divinity secured everyone from the menace of the outside world. From afar, the lavishness of the stronghold could be seen. Everything was polished clean and perfected. The donjon outstretched its beauty ten to eleven stories high into the air. The sloped gables eloquently curving the roofs at every level, the tiles having been laid finely without a hint of a crack, the small openings contradicting the vastness of the central keep. It was settled at the base of the mountain _Fuji-san_. Legend to have the highest summit in the world. The perfect place for the Emperor. The sacred mountain was rumored to be abounded by warriors, which could only be true. War seemed to have yet to grace the sacred land.

Anyone with a right sense of mind who was not accustomed to such beauty would have lasted for hours gazing at the white powder covered mountain. Even in their many visits, the noble family was still awed by such a magnificent view. The vastness of the mountain seemed to embrace the entire world. Though thick clouds covered the peak from view, it left little to the mind to ponder the beauty of it all. It was even more illustrious with the fluorescent lights of the great sun. The light azure sky accentuated the visible tips of the humongous alp.

There were important matters to attend to. So they forcibly set their gazes aside as they made their way towards the city. The group had reached within the outer gate of the city and were fortunate to have more aged samurai garrisoned at the post. A gigantic stone gate blocked their view of the donjon. It was about fifty-feet high complete with bulwarks, bastions and interlocking battlements. A scary first sight with a daunting menace to all who oppose the castle. The _daimyos_ finally registered confusion as it was custom to have the main defensive gate placed closer to the donjon for the protection of the Emperor. They shook the matter aside for the moment.

"Lord Clyne, Lord Zala, and Honorable Ladies. Welcome to Orb. Surprised to see you old timers here. How come you didn't message us first?" a middle aged samurai in an Orb kimono asked with gusto, his eyes searching the Silver Wind Samurai and the nobles. The small group of similarly attired samurai seemed young with inexperience as their ears and eyes perked up to the fabled _daimyos_. Their youthful gazes traveled to the beautiful pink haired woman on horseback, illiciting overprotective daggers from Athrun and Lord Zala. The middle aged man waved his men's awkward glances away and turned to the nobles, "Uh, nice to see you?"

"Hello Murdoch-san, it is a pleasure to see you," Lord Clyne greeted in a bit of a brisk. He was eager to make his way to the emperor, "Please excuse us for we do not have much time on our hands. We need to see the Emperor. Grave matters are on hand."

"Oh?" Murdoch-san pondered aloud and then looked at the agitated face of Lord Zala, "Okay, okay open the gates!" he yelled over the watch tower with his hands held up in defense.

The huge iron plated portcullis rose from the earth leaving its pointed marks in its absence. The huge iron door behind the suspended iron slats opened noisily. Beyond the gate was a stone bridge, fifty paces wide and five hundred long, spanning the hidden moat and ending at the enormous drawbridge. The deep ditch ran at least a hundred feet below and spanned five hundred wide. The outer wall garrison amalgamated with the inner wall garrison offering heavy cover. The walls were thickened immensely about fifty feet thick for every wall made of huge blocks of stone cut precisely and secured with iron lining. Another gate was set into a second wall, equally as vast. _Yumi _samurai were perched atop the battlements ready and waiting while another group situated themselves behind the second walls. Thousands of samurai were everywhere while many more seemed to lurk in the shadows, ready to swallow up any invading army. All were wearing a similar white and blue uniform with their taut _obi_ and five circular insignias save for the lion crests. They were all well armed and even a few were on standby donning their samurai _kikou_. This was indeed Orb Castle. It was impregnable.

The noble families crossed the wide bridge and through the first gate. They were inside the city and were instantly greeted by a waft of pleasant smells. A mixture of elegant perfume to the enticing smell of fresh hot noodles. The air was filled with a certain safeness from the danger as happiness marked every corner and every street of the city within the city. They noticed even the farthest homes from the castle that were generally poorly developed than the ones closer towards the castle were equally made. The _shoji_ and cedar wood seemed to have been made just for the houses. The condition of the roads were well kept and not a single trace of unhappiness lingered in the air. The place was indeed a Divine City and though it was partially because of the presence of the Emperor himself, there was something amiss that the nobles did not know of.

The noble group had walked on through the wide main road accompanied by Murdoch-san and his samurai who suppressed the need to look at the gorgeous woman. Sometime during their walk, a group of palanquins carried by four liveried bearers a piece fell to their sides in place, beckoning the noble ladies inside. The palanquins were of the open sort with exquisite silk curtains draped on the sides of the roof undeterring the nobles of the view of the city. They were nearing the second gate that was equally defended and still had eight more to pass before they were in the threshold of the Orb donjon. Before they reached the gates, Murdoch-san spotted that familiar yet mysterious cloaked samurai the noble group had encountered before. Murdoch-san seemed elated to see him and joyfully called out, "Oy bouzo!"

Once again a familiar chilling feeling went through all of the nobles who looked out from the curtains. There was no way that the samurai before them could be a kid, could he? They had all wondered why Murdoch-san seemed to be at ease and so informal to what should be a high ranking samurai and at the very least a skilled one. He was currently holding a young girl in an embrace as if they had not seen each other in the longest of time. Lady Lacus had an endearing look riddled on her face, as her alluring heart-shaped head tilted off to the side. Her thoughts were straying again as only Lady Clyne had seemed to notice.

Upon hearing the familiar endearment, the cloaked samurai had turned around and waved back warmly. His cloak turning to the palanquin of the songstress ever so briefly and then back around again. The young man returned to his business and handed out a sack of gifts to the brown-haired and brown-eyed young girl. Then the man had waved a farewell to Murdoch-san before he disappeared behind the crowd that had gathered to see the nobles and into one of the small houses. The onlookers had not taken a differentiated interest in him. They were all respectful nonetheless and seemingly at ease and happy around the boy. They seemed to have known him and he seemed to be one with the entire population. Quite another puzzling mystery of the enigmatic cloaked one.

The nobles had shook the thought off and continued to the second gate. Murdoch-san had his men fill out some papers that were ceremonially checked at each gate. Raised flags of the Clynes and Zalas also emerged from the group. They had heightened their pace to reach the castle without interruptions and ignored the polite stares and bows of the more aged men and women who knew of their identities. The next gate having been similar to the first, the two lords were quite amazed by the fortifications of the city. Every housing was getting larger and larger from the gates as was custom, but it seemed everyone had free access to go wherever their hearts desired. Deeper and deeper into the city, the samurai became less visible and lighter armed then before, but still held the same pride and dignity within their inflated bosoms.

After the fourth gate and another ceremonial checking of papers, the road they were taking finally diverged to the right out of the forked pathway. They were headed down a vast avenue lined with extensively fortified houses behind elevated hills and larger and more defendable walls that soon turned into a treacherous labyrinth. Another iron portcullis after portcullis and vast moat after moat and wall after wall with new twists and turns of the earthly paved road. All the while, countless samurai could be seen gazing down from higher elevated plains, battlements, bastions, parapets, ramparts, bulwarks, towers, and outworks. While at the same time thousands of samurai well armed and scrupulously clothed were on foot, marching, guarding, blocking, training, or tending horses in open stables. Though frightening at first glance, the scene only propagated the secure and peaceful allure of the Divine City.

The castle was not just filled with an innumerable amount of samurai as well. Most samurai even seemed off duty and habitually tended to be in place for protection. Morale was evidently high and their faces weren't taut and serious like all of Boaz Castle's men. There were a multitude of multicoloured gardens tended by many gardeners. There were litters of small streams running throughout the castle grounds and little wooden bridges with stones delicately placed here and there. Koi ponds filled with schools of multicoloured carps and zesty green water ferns, clovers, hyacinths and submerged water lilies. A few handsome waterfalls adorned small man-made lakes. Tons of sakura trees with infant flowers depicting the coming of the blooming season. Some ripened flowers fell onto the lakes creating an elegant contrast between the mirrors of the water and adding flavour to the richly viridian water gardens.

At times, the wonderful scenery had captivated the vision of the nobles and Silver Wind forcefully and had to be subsided with equal force. The roads began to narrow and the walls becoming adjoined. By early sunset, they had arrived within the threshold of the great donjon. The gate inside the Castle keep was well protected by over a hundred samurai clad in full armour strategically placed to let counter every blind spot while at the same time perpetuating even defense from attacks on every side. Turrets lined the corners of the donjon from the back to the front. Scores of eyes peered down below while there was a sense of even more sets of eyes lurking in the shadows. A feeling of unease crept their way into the nobles, but was subsided by the feeling of security that had been everywhere.

When they reached the main gate to the donjon, Murdoch showed the papers but this time with more formality. As the large iron gate abruptly swung open, he bowed formally to the nobles and made leave of absence after ushering them forward. They were at a wide cul-de-sac with the center being adorned with a large memorial stone encrusted in the middle while an even larger stone statue of a dragon-like hound stood by protectively. The inner courtyard was elegantly surrounded with blossoming sakura neatly placed in line marking the boundaries of the pavement. Beyond the courtyard laid an expanse of a well-cultivated garden, fresh with a tantalizing aroma of a wonderful assortment of flowers masterly ordered in harmony amongst the different flowers. The porch of the donjon was garnished with paper lanterns hanging in the air. Eloquently written kanji depicted the pious divinity of the place.

Reaching the entrance of the fort, a woman not young and not old had emerged from the keep before them sandal-less. Her hair a medium lengthy brown with orange eyes and her lips a shade of rouge. She was accompanied by a familiar red-eyed boy and blonde-haired girl also without their thonged _geta_.

The woman bowed politely. The lords bowed back in courtesy.

"Stellar, go inform the Emperor of this," the samurai named Shinn stressed the last part with a conspicuous ire.

The nobles led by the two _daimyos _and young lord heard him well. An irritated look swept the face of Lord Zala while Lord Clyne and Athrun remained calm. They had sensed that it was by the boy's nature to have an arrogant tone so they just ignored it.

"Ah, you must excuse him Lord Clyne and Lord Zala," the brunette said kindly and then turned to the young man to lightly scold him with an air of command, "Shinn, that is not the way to greet people you know that."

Shinn only turned away in silent acknowledgment.

The woman turned to face the nobles again and were met with squinting eyes of the _daimyos_.

"Ramius-san!" Lord Clyne said happily, not having fully recognized the woman at first glance.

She smiled in response as the palanquins carrying the noble ladies had been alleviated of their burdens. Lady Clyne, Lady Zala, and Lady Lacus all emerged from them and walked towards the friendly female.

"My, my, it is nice to see you Murrue-chan," Lady Clyne said with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "the years have been good to you I see, how is he?"

Murrue blushed at the insinuation, but then quickly recovered for the sake of her pride.

"That is not important Eileen-sama," she replied briskly, "may I ask what the honour of your presence is for here?"

"We need to speak to His Majesty," Lenore replied earnestly, "there are important matters we wish for him to attend to."

"Ah yes of course," Murrue replied while giving a small smile to Lady Lacus, "how are you Lacus-sama?"

"I am fine, thank you Murrue-chan," Lacus replied with a small smile. Her lips moved to ask another question but decided to hold off and make the surprise visit a surprise visit to her dear friend.

Seconds later, Stellar emerged from the confines of the donjon and beckoned the group in. The red-eyed boy half-glared at the blonde to stop her friendliness until a small jab of the elbow to his gut reminded him of who wore the _hakama_ around the the donjon. As was a custom, the nobles had disarmed themselves of their long swords as well as their sandals before entering the sacred area. Their weapons were neatly gathered up by a few of samurai with the crest of the Emperor. The Silver Wind guards did not follow and obediently remained outside of the donjon. An awkward silence fell on the group as they looked around the hostile yet friendly scenery. The awkward feeling was swiftly replaced with that of mirth as the Emperor's samurai had seemed to loosen up once the Silver Wind had disarmed themselves as well. They had enjoyed a peaceful silence and watched on as the nobles disappeared within the grand donjon.

The nobles descended inside a corridor within the donjon richly carpeted with tatamis. The clean mats were kind to the ankle high _tabi_ worn feet. The standard six feet by three matting fit the squared room perfectly. Towards the middle of the room was a set of winding stairs that led to other corridors and more rooms and more stairs. Several guards lined the way as the dimming sunlight shown through the walled embrasures casting fancy patterns everywhere. The nobles looked out from the slits of the donjon and noticed they were high above, at least at the fifth level. The city and the many gardens and gates and roads and trees were a uniquely patterned quilt below them.

The corridor they were heading through twisted into a sharp corner and ended a hundred paces away. A mass of samurai with the same lion crested head band guarded the door that seemed to lead to the Emperor. The guards seemed far more serious than any of the samurai before. Their lead officer was in front of them, a loyal sense of duty pervading his entire form. He seemed to be wizened and well into his middle ages. His temperance was mild while at the same time serious. He was not wearing a headband of the sort. Instead, he opted for the lion crest insignia to be quilted onto the shoulders of his kimono. His short well kept grey hair did not obscure his vision as his light brown eyes seared into the nobles analytically.

Upon reaching the men, the man's gaze lightened considerably and broke into a small smile.

"Konban wa, Lord Clyne, Lord Zala, and Honorable Ladies," he said in an earnest tone laced with wisdom and a potent commanding nature, "I apologize for the seriousness in our demeanor. We mean no disrespect. Please do not take any offense."

"None taken Colonel Todaka," Lord Clyne said honestly.

"However, you do realize by rules, there is but one soul that can be permitted into the Emperor's presence without appointment and that is not of the Imperial Family," Todaka said in a serious tone. Lord Clyne and Lord Zala knew of the grave issue in appointed audience with the Emperor, but were surprised to hear about the one person granted a leeway.

"We--" Lord Clyne started until he was cutoff.

"We recall that rule. However, we have tried before to reach him but to no avail. Japan is in a state of war once again, and though this city lives in peace, it will only be a matter of time until reality consumes this place as well," Lord Zala said calmly.

A small smile graced the Colonel's lips as he replied, "Rules cannot be broken regardless of the circumstances."

The nobles seemed dejected until the man continued, "However, there is no need for such strictness right now."

Todaka motioned to his men. They all moved aside swiftly as the wizened man opened the door. He carefully stepped into the immense audience room filled with the best quality of tatami, five fingers thick and impeccable. Just past the doorway, Todaka knelt displacing his swords on the floor in front of him as he planted his hands flat on the matting beside them and bowed his head low. His abject position not faltering even with a single breath of life.

The nobles followed suit. The room was fifty paces square and ten high. The far back wall exhibited three doors. All of which were guarded by a pair of samurai. Near the dais, in the small recess of the wall, was a ceramic vase sprayed with cherry blossoms filling the entire room with its vibrant colours while the white and blue walls created a nourishing environment. Streaks of faint sunlight filtered into the room carefully. Twenty paces from the dias, twenty more samurai sat cross-legged.

The Emperor sat on one of the lavish cushions on the dais. A small smile planted on his absent-minded face. The word samurai was written ostensibly in this one man. A sense of overwhelming power came from him saturating the entire room.

The Emperor, Lord of Japan--ruler of all Provinces--head of the Imperial Family, perched atop the _kikkamonshō, _direct descendant of Emperor Go-Murakami, legendary samurai, was a tall man with a well-built body. His eyebrows were dark and thick as his beard and mustache that rounded about his lips and ended just below his chin. His stark eyes dominated his face. He was in his fifties but strong his his age. He donned a white and blue kimono trimmed with gold linen with a gold silk sash. His famed swords the best quality in the world.

After awhile, he snapped back into reality and kindly acknowledged the presence of the familiar nobles. He motioned for the guards to exit and with some reluctance, all left from view except Todaka. The Colonel stood by the doorway with his back towards the the inside.

"You may rise," the Emperor said in an absolute voice. The nobles did as they were told. Their gazes taking in the all-powerful man of Japan. Though they were accustomed to him and even under his favor after their last leave, they were still quite taken in with the serene look of the fabled man. "Welcome Lord Clyne, Lord Zala, Lady Clyne, Lady Zala, Athrun-kun, and Lacus-chan, it is a pleasure seeing everyone once again," he greeted all of them merrily. He pointed a few samurai servants to bring extra cushions and seated the noble families to the corner of the room, hidden from view of the doorway in which they entered.

They were all flustered by the outward show of compliment that were rarely thrown out in public by the Emperor no less.

"It is our pleasure to see your Eminence," Lord Clyne spoke with utmost respect, "Sire, we apologize for not having this meeting appointed."

"There is no need to apologize my friend," the Emperor said earnestly, "I understand that you have important matters to discuss with me?"

"Yes your Highness," Lord Zala began, "We are here--"

He was cutoff by the sound of by the sound of swift footsteps that abruptly ended by the foot of the doorway.

Todaka acknowledged the visitor easily from afar as a smile graced his lips. The kind gesture was returned politely with a respectful bow. Todaka stepped inside of the room once more and bowed low and formally to the Emperor once again. The Emperor acknowledged Todaka but was a bit confused at his reentrance. Todaka rose onto his feet and smiled an aged smile.

He motioned to the figure standing by the door. Before the Emperor's eyes reached its directed destination, Todaka tactfully exited from view leaving his guard. He knew the Emperor could not have a better protector.

The figure walked in naturally as if he was accustomed to the audience of the Emperor. A rush of silent gasps infiltrated the minds of all inside the room save for the Emperor. A visible smile graced his Highness as he recognized the visitor through his guise.

He had not acknowledged the presence of the nobles in the room. His flowing brown cloak remained covering his mysterious form. The trail of his steps led him five paces away from the smiling Emperor. The closest anybody outside of the Imperial Family could ever reach. The Emperor stood up with much gusto in his knees and legs. He abruptly hugged the cloaked samurai--utterly shocking the nobles. Lord Clyne, Lord Zala, Lady Eileen, Lady Lenore, Athrun Zala, and Lacus Clyne were speechless at the public show of affection.

After a while, the embrace was released.

The initial shock subsided.

The hooded figure slowly removed his covered head.

"Konban wa, Attha-sama," came his gentle yet firm voice.

In a similar voice the Emperor replied, "Konban wa, Kira-kun."


	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

"Konban wa, Attha-sama," the cloaked figure said.

The Emperor replied, "Konban wa, Kira-kun."

The said boy slowly removed the hood of his cloak. His hair cascaded down freely at the same pace.

Like the earth that tremored every now and then and voraciously shook beneath their feet, the minds of Lord Clyne, Lord Zala, Lady Eileen, Lady Lenore, Athrun Zala, and Lacus Clyne crumbled in a matter of seconds. The after effects of the rumbling was devastating. For a brief moment, their mouths could not talk, their ears could not hear, their body could not move, and their eyes could not see. The figure in front of them seemed like a ghost to them, but they knew he was real. Though recent premonitions foresaw this revelation, the nobles did not truly know. For a time, they truly did not believe. How could he be alive? Is he really that boy that saved them? Those people that he killed . . .

Their questions ended when the hood fell magnificently over his broadened shoulders.

Sure enough, it was Kira Yamato.

His hair ran longer as it cascaded past his shoulders. A neatly tied black bandana covered the top of his head, but there was no mistaking those light chesnut locks that ended below his neck. His enlarged frame that heightened to his endowment blessed him with a perfect physique. Small hints of his darkened undergarment presented itself through the thicks of his hair. Though his face and eyes were hidden from the view of the nobles, they all knew it was him. His eyes looked directly at the Emperor without the slightest bit of inferiority. How was that possible? The Emperor hugged him as if he was his family. How can that be? There was not even a threat of punishment after such a blatant. How can he not be condemned for such an action?

"Has it been that long Kira-kun?" the Emperor said with a small smile and a raised brow insisting what he had implied.

"Ah, gomen ne Uzumi-sama," Kira replied as he recalled his memory about the talk he had with the Emperor about his unneeded use of formality.

Something that was considered extremely offensive to Lord Zala while it just puzzled the others. How could he be so informal with the Imperial One? It was impossible to be so casual without having been reprimanded. So why him?

Lady Clyne looked over to her daughter and what she saw equally puzzled her. She could not tell for sure, but it had seemed . . .

"_Iýe_, _Iýe,_ no need for apologies,so how was your trip?" Uzumi inquired curiously.

"It went well, I have gotten what I needed," Kira said with a light smile planted on his lips as his gaze traveled absently and landed at the cherry blossom vase.

"Ah sou desu," Attha responded with a smile playing on his lips as well, "That's very good to hear." Uzumi followed his gaze which led him to the beautiful vase the boy had given him as a gift before he pardoned for his leave. "When you had given that vase last time, I hadn't been able to thank you."

The nobles were all but confused at the moment. Just how much happened in one year?

"_Iýe_," Kira said absently, "You already have."

"Oh?" Uzumi said in confusion at first while Kira nodded slightly, "But thank you for making it for us, we treasure it very much." Uzumi's mind wandered off to his beloved family until Kira spoke once again. He knew Kira would be all too kind in receiving a compliment.

"A-arigatou," Kira said as he bowed respectfully while a knowing smile grew on Uzumi. Then, upon realizing something of importance, "Ah, Uzumi-sama, could you please wait a minute, I must show you something."

"Sure Kira-kun," Uzumi said with a wave of his hand.

After Kira had left, the enlarged eyes of the nobles had caught the emperor's intrigue.

"Is there anything the matter that you find troubling?" he inquired curiously.

"N-nothing . . ." Lord Clyne stumbled upon his words as the others were to shocked to speak uncharacteristic of samurai, "Where did you find that boy?"

"Oh?" Uzumi replied baffled by his question.

"T-that's not important, your Highness, that child has disrespected you!" Lord Zala said with almost too much anger standing upright with his hand poised on his short sword, "Order me and I shall rid him of his head!"

The nobles had been stunned by Lord Zala's words. They're eyes giving him a warning he had not noticed. They did not want such a thing to happen. Athrun had felt shamed by his father for saying such things. They were all bewildered by Lord Zala's insistence as if Kira had not done enough. Was Patrick not happy in finding the boy alive once again after such a long time? Was he ungrateful for the boy's interventions that changed their fates for only the better? Had he forgotten the fact that he had saved them from tragedy in the same day that was today? They were all shamed by his harsh words but unable to utter their feelings publicly.

"You will not do such a thing," a beautiful voice behind the middle _shoji_ at the far back of the room articulated. The door had slid open to the side revealing a beautiful woman who seemed to be quite young though an air of wisdom and experience contradicted her apparent youth. Her magnificent light chocolate brown hair sank below her shoulders with her bangs neatly placed over the sides of her alluring eyes. Her long brown brows accentuated her perfect nose while two stalks of her brown hair streamed down the sides of her face, barely covering her ears and reaching the top of her bosom. Her average tanned skin perpetuated her feminine features while her form was still lavishly youthful.

"The Imperial Majesty Empress Attha of Nihon!" Lord Zala, forgetting the rebuttal of his own words, instinctively bowed with extreme formality which the other nobles followed suit, "We are not worthy."

As was custom, they were indeed not worthy to even have gazed into the illustrious eyes of the Empress. But only Lord Zala was blinded by the fact that Empress Attha was a kind, gentle, and loving woman who had befriended the Noble Ladies a long time ago. She had already broken down the barriers to such a custom she had never once enjoyed. She always loved people with the same genuineness that could only be found in a tennyo such as her. She smiled warmly at the guests beckoning them to rise.

"Now, now, there is no need for formalities here," she said genuinely with a small smile, "It is rather a pleasant surprise seeing friends of mine."

The nobles had risen up from the extravagant tatamis to look at the kind woman. Just as they had seen the graceful smile that adorned her lips, the young brunette before had walked in with quite some trouble. He was walking in with another person in his hand, though the smaller hand slipped from his grasp as he understood the shyness.

A playful smile danced across his lips as he was still oblivious to the nobles who were once again silenced. He had noticed the Empress and curtsied with casual respect while his smile grew even more and likewise the empress.

"Konban wa, Lady Attha-sama," he said, "I am glad that you are here as well."

"Konban wa, Kira-kun," Empress Attha replied while her smile grew considerably as she doused the young boy with an earnest hug of affection--once again shocking the already disbelieving noble families. "It is nice to see you once again," she said kindly.

"Arigatou Lady Attha-sama," Kira responded shyly with a slight blush from her affections. He heard a small feminine giggle from behind the doorway which he knew who the voice belonged to. A small smirk grew on his lips.

"Now, may I present to you, Mayu Asuka-chan," he said formally with an air of triumphant jest tinged with a bit of seriousness as he dramatically bowed and showed his hands towards the hallway in which he came. The said girl mirrored Kira's blush as she had refused to come out. Kira's hands lingered in the air dumbly as he waited for the aforementioned child to stride in. An amused smile graced his lips as well as that of the Imperial Family. He cleared his throat playfully, "I said . . ." adding in a little more firm vocals, "May I present to you, the beautiful and elegant and charming, Mayu Asuka-chan . . . who will come out before I drag her out." He said with a smile and bowed formally with his hands sticking out in the same fashion as before.

A small figure emerged from the corner of the door still very much hidden save for a bashful brown eye and a part of her attire. The frame of her white and pastel coloured dress shined brilliantly from the shadowy sunlight that penetrated through from the open slits in the audience room. Her tiny fingers lined the inside of the wall while her brown eyes gazed upon the encouraging violet eyes that she had come to love dearly. She emerged from the wall completely and shyly stepped inside, showing the whole of her kimono. Her bashfully bitten bottom lip made her insanely cute. Two stems of her hair were tied neatly near the ends. Her flowing kimono snugly fit her as if it was made just for her. And indeed it was. She gazed up to see encouraging smiles from the Imperial Family that made her heart double over and jump for joy. Newfound confidence beckoned her to politely twirl about to show the beautiful dress of hers. Small scarlet and white flowers were sewn in perfect harmony with the large whitish red flowers that were strategically placed about in a perfectly flowing curvature. Her pastel coloured small geta sandals matched her gown perfectly while the large obi that ran across her waist was a heavenly shade of whitish blue. The dress seemed to have been made for an Imperial daughter.

The Emperor and Empress were very happy in seeing the young girl so happy with a kimono of her own. They had often offered her a kimono but she had always politely refused. As was the same for Kira. They had never asked to be showered with gifts or adorned with heirlooms. That was just the type of people they were. And that was just one of the many reasons the Imperial Couple had come to love the two as if they were their own children. The Imperial Ones were so delighted that they had forgotten about their own guests and gathered around the young girl, admiring the hem of her dress. The soft feel of the silk was enticing to the fingers. Mayu had smiled gleefully, feeling beautiful for the first time in such an extravagant dress that she never once had in her entire life. Her huge grin threatened to stretch her face into a position she could not return.

Kira remained silently happy as he stood by watching with an encouraging smile. Mayu hugged the Imperial Couple and proceeded to dash into Kira's arms. Uzumi and Lady Attha could only smile happily at the overwhelming amount of happiness. Then, curiosity struck like the blinding lights from the heavens.

"Where did you get that beautiful dress from Mayu-chan?" Empress Attha inquired.

"Kira made it for me," Mayu replied jovially.

All the jaws dropped in the room. The ones that were already dropped sunk even lower. They were all utterly shocked with the little girl's words. All eyes turned to Kira at once and he blushed shyly from the attention. A small smile graced his lips as he looked at Mayu with eyes that said 'you traitor!' while Mayu just swatted her eyes innocently effectively shuddering the look away from the brunette. Kira sighed deeply as he knew he was beat, but he had a trump card up his sleeve.

"Attha-sama and Lady Attha-sama, if its not too much a burden on you," Kira started with a jestful mischievous glint in his eyes discomforting the young girl, "could you please watch over Mayu-chan here, I have some other business to attend to."

Mayu's had been taken aback like earlier that day when Kira had given her the beautiful dress as a gift. Instinctively she smacked Kira on his chest playfully while pouting angrily at the brunette. The Imperial Couple laughed heartily at the scene with an easy answer in mind, "Of course Kira-kun," Uzumi said.

Kira grinned joyously in mock victory and hugged Mayu and the Imperial Couple jovially. A few moments had passed until the dialogue was added onto by a beautiful voice.

"Oh Kira-kun," Empress Attha started as she nudged her husband aiding him to remember.

"Hai Lady Attha-sama?"

"Oh yes of course dear," Uzumi said as he remembered and smiled fondly, "the Crown Princess should be arriving from her trip soon as well."

"Ah sou desu. It will be good to see her again." A small smile graced his lips remembering the fondness he had for the Princess. He found himself happier than usual as of late. He could not put his finger on exactly why nor did he argue since he felt much more relaxed and at ease. His mind shook the thoughts off as he figured that it must have been from seeing the people he truly cared about since a long time. He was still a bit weary from his travels. He needed to clear his head once again.

He never saw the nobles that sat there stunned and bewildered and shocked and just about speechless about the recent events.

A faint smile could be seen on the pink-haired songstress luscious lips. She had wanted to see her close friend for a while, but she had wanted to see the boy before them even more. She had not known what she would have done if she had the chance to see him again. Even now, she did not know.

As he turned to leave, he had finally caught their gazes while the nobles had finally caught his.

His eyes grew in surprise, but calmly settled down afterwards. The front of his long brown hair cascaded until the tips of his broadened chest. His ungloved hands showed the callous around his palms probably from wielding the sword. The rest of his body save for his head was covered with the brown mantle with only the evident bodily figures protruding from his concealed form. An ominous black undergarment clung tightly onto his neck with streams of white, red, and blue cutting across the top portion. His face was the most intriguing of his entire form. Not a single trace of childish boyishness remained. His face hardened considerably during the year's time. Those amethyst eyes once filled with weakness was now abundant with a reservoir of strength, ferocity and an indomitable will of duty. His eyes were still kind, warm, and gentle as he was seemingly happy. Another emotion was embedded deep within those warm violet pools. But only one person noticed, or could notice.

Impressed upon his lips, Kira smiled the faintest of smiles as his violet eyes momentarily locked onto baby blues. His face emanating a vision of serenity. He bowed respectfully acknowledging the nobles as their eyes looked over the entire of his being from his geta up to his bandana. With the agility of a kitsune, he exited the room.

Baby blue eyes began to tear. They had noticed something that no one else knew. The other pairs of eyes were all drowned within the midst of their own confusion.

A sudden hush drew over the room just as quickly as Kira exited.

The uncomfortable silence halted after an unsettled girl squirmed a bit at the palpable tension. Mayu tugged the hem of the elegant kimono of the Empress. Her confused brown eyes pleaded to the woman to take her to the place she had always loved going to. Empress Attha smiled in response and pardoned from her company warmly. Her imperial hand gently took the small hand of the girl and led the way to the door on the far left of the back wall. The shoji slid open revealing a lengthy straight stairway that led to something that the nobles had never seen. They were unable to keep their minds on a trivial matter as the cedar wood abruptly closed and a voice spoke up immediately.

"Your Highness, why did you let that boy go unpunished?" Lord Zala said shocking the already dumbfounded nobles once again.

"Have you not heard the wishes of my wife?" Uzumi said with a hint of uncharacteristic irritation. Uzumi understood that Lord Zala were one of the few _daimyos_ that strictly believed in the old tradition. He couldn't blame him though because he understood him in that aspect.

"Your Highness, with all due respect to the Empress, but you lay your danger in risk by being so friendly with a servant boy no less."

The nobles downcast their head in obvious shame. A twitch of visible agitation caught on the face of the usually calm and serene Emperor.

"Lord Zala, I am aware of the dangers in my life and Kira has never been one of them, " Uzumi said as he almost trailed off and wandered to his memories of the boy that changed him and his family for the better, "He has done nothing wrong. Why are you so interested in punishing the boy?"

"Emperor, I am only interested in your well being! He can kill you if he so desires," Lord Zala declared, "I have seen with my own eyes, that boy is a murderer!"

"Enough!" the Emperor roared quieting the impudent _daimyo_ while frightening everyone else. The elder nobles had never been accustomed to Uzumi being so visibly upset. "Your eyes have seen nothing! You are blind!"

"But Sire--"

"You do not know that child," the Emperor said regaining his normal tone, "There was a time when he would not harm a single life . . ." he said absently at a barely audible voice. His fierce eyes gazing out of open slits towards the dying sun. He turned back to the attention of the nobles and with an audible sigh, "Excuse me for my tone Honorable Ladies. Would you like to join my wife? I am sure she will enjoy your company."

The nobles were a bit speechless at the sudden change of topic, but nonetheless Lady Clyne, Lady Zala, and Lady Lacus courteously took up the offer. They had matters to attend to as well and they would get everything they needed to know with the Empress as much as the Emperor. Orb Castle had changed remarkably and they needed to find out exactly why. Other things troubled them equally, but one of the Ladies in particular was interested in something else. The shoji opened and closed gracefully as a serious tone infiltrated the room.

The Emperor was the first to speak, "The child is not of importance to you all right now, please continue, you were here saying?"

The _daimyos_ were relieved to finally be able to have a proper audience with the Emperor concerning their troubles. They began to worry as it dawned on them that Zaft was still in danger.

"Emperor Attha," Lord Clyne started reluctantly, but he knew he had to break the unsettling silence, "We need your immediate assistance. The EA have invaded the lands of Plant in this previous year and they have not let up. They even went as far as chasing us to the lands of Zaft. They have constantly attacked us while we had not made any provocations."

"I am aware of these matters Lord Clyne," the Emperor said calmly.

"Then you should know about the dire consequences of such actions," Lord Zala placed his two koku.

"I am sure you have all noticed the changes in Orb after we ascended into power. There is something you all need to know . . ."

The noble ladies had descended down the long walkway that seemed to lead directly to the first level of the donjon. Their feet had led them to another shoji blocking out what seemed to be the remaining sunlight. They slid open the door to the end of the steps and were greeted pleasantly by an empyreal site. A completely secluded area of the castle that was covered by the towering Fuji-san at the back. Concealing the sides were a thick woodlot of grown trees soaring into the sky.

In front of their eyes was the most beautiful garden ever. Everything was meticulously laid out and perfectly arranged. The enchanting smell of every different flower lured in every nose. Every colour imaginable was visible and attracting to the eye. Lilac, pink, yellow, gold, white, red--all of which had intricate designs and varying richness in colour. Not a single flower was alike. Each one having their own sense of beauty. All the while having a harmonious amity and sense of kinship. The lush green leaves seemed impeccable to the touch while intensifying the magnificence of the oasis. Like every garden, there were a few thorns on every vine but instead of ruining its perfection, it seemed to beautify its elegance even more by displaying a sense of protection of the immense beauty of its blossoms.

The captivated ladies walked gingerly on the small pathway that led around the garden, making sure to soak up the entire serenity of the place. A little ways over was a patch of blue flowers harmonized with thickly green scenery. It was coupled with the branches of trees sticking their hands out while hundreds of tiny purplish blue blossoms cascaded down from them elegantly. The pathway led the noblewomen to a small pass that was made by the concentration of flowers flowing down freely. It formed a beautiful flowered doorway that drew in the ladies. Lady Lacus delicately moved the bundle of flowers aside and was the first to step into even more inconceivable beauty.

The elder noblewomen followed likewise. They stopped immediately after being enveloped by the full scenic visage. A large clear blue pond was mounted in the middle of the sequestered area. It was filled with lively carp ranging in sizes along with their colours. Another line of trees were planted in front of the thick woods that covered the sides. They were sakura trees. The flowers on each were varying shades of pink creating a wave like appearance that seemed to flow from one sakura to the next. A gorgeous waterfall meshed into the pond harmonically. An undergrowth of green lined the stone magnificently. The flow of the water covered an alcove planted in the rock behind the waterfall big enough for a person or two. There were a few rocks with carved engravings embedded in them. The surrounding ephemeral beauty had averted the attention of the noble ladies that they had not noticed two familiar figures, one playing happily in the clean water with her kimono tied up high while the other was picking flowers off a well tended bush. After recovering from the remarkable site, the ladies had been spoken warmly to.

"Do you like this place?" came the gentle voice.

"Hai, it's beautiful," Lady Clyne spoke on behalf of the other speechless ladies.

The Empress smiled back briefly turning her attention to the child playing in the water. She beckoned the noblewomen to a small clearing in the garden equipped with comfortable cushions. She had sensed an urge to talk and to talk they would.

"I am sure you all have questions about Orb right now," the Empress started.

The noblewomen only nodded.

"Orb has become the symbol of peace . . ." She started in a similar manner to her husband.

"Nani? You will not help us?" Lord Zala asked almost too loud.

"Orb is of peace. It's warriors are protectors," the Emperor said flatly, "I know it is rather dire situation, but we cannot go against our beliefs."

"But we are at war your Highness! Our lands have been invaded, our people have been lost," Lord Clyne pleaded.

Lord Zala continued, "The EA will become more powerful and soon they will set their filthy eyes on you,"

"We cannot intervene," the Emperor said.

Lord Clyne resulted into his last argument, "Sire, the lands of Plant have been ravaged by war due to the EA. We were a peaceful land just like Orb is and look what happened to us."

"Lord Clyne, you claim Plant a peaceful nation?" the Emperor inquired as Siegel nodded, "Then were you not planning to unite with Zaft . . . and continue its attacks on the lands of EA?"

Lord Clyne was taken aback by the Emperor's words. A small trickle of sweat dropped on the head of Lord Zala. The ever silent Athrun had become bewildered by the Emperor's words. He looked around from each man's face as if trying to find answers to some incessant questions plaguing his mind.

"What attacks? Plant is a--" Lord Clyne started until the Emperor motioned to Lord Zala. "Patrick, what's going on?"

Lord Zala remained conspicuously silent. The questioning eyes of Siegel and Athrun were enough to make him shudder on the inside, but he could not let up. He planned his life out too long for him to abandon them now. The silence was almost unbearable.

"In any case, we will not join your forces. Even if you must revolt against us, even if you are not our enemies, even if you are our friends."

"We see. It is a shame to see you like this Your Highness," Lord Zala almost spat bitterly, "Where is the fearless samurai that was once on the fields of battle alongside with his faithful _daimyos_? You go back on your own words. You yourself have taken the lives of many and have conquered the lands of others and now you say you are a peaceful people?"

The Emperor sighed a bit at his words. They were right. But still.

"It is true that I have known and committed to such acts. But there in this world of neverending battles, there must be a time when it all ceases. There must be a future that will be safe from constant wars. This is an ideal we _now_ believe in," the Emperor said as his gaze trailed off once more.

"That can never happen as long as their is the troublesome EA. Their evil ways will consume you. I beg forgiveness for saying this my Lord, but you have grown weak," Lord Zala said as he bowed low, "Perhaps it is because of that boy's influence that you have become so sentimental. This period of 'peace' you say will not last long."

The Emperor just looked at ever dimming sky blandly.

"Weak you say?" the Emperor started, "See with your eyes Lord Zala."

"I do see your Highness," Lord Zala said, "The disrespect you have been shown by that boy. You have shown me clearly--"

"Lord Zala. It is true that we have changed. Have you seen that all people here are no longer burdened with duty so that their hearts are oppressed to the point that they cannot live? That boy you speak of so lowly. He has enlightened us on the error of our ways."

"But you contradict your own ways. You are samurai and a Holy Being. Yet you do not realize--"

"There will come a time when these lands will need the protection of a being with pure intentions yet one who knows of evil," Emperor Attha said with an enigmatic look in his eyes, "We are not blind to rules of war and the conflicts of the world. That is why we need the eyes of who has known evil, yet is good within. For what is good without knowing evil? If one were to remain blind to evil, then he will inevitably remain blind to good. Neh?" the Emperor said.

"We will be leaving now your Highness," Lord Zala declared boldly, "Zaft is in danger. It was a mistake to come here. Pardon us for interrupting your times of peace."

"Very well Lord Zala," the Emperor calmly replied, "Please stay here Lord Clyne. You and your family are welcome to stay here. You all must be tired from your journey. There is a matter in which I need to speak to you with as well."

"Yes Sire," Lord Clyne replied.

"I will sign some Imperial Letters to grant you safe passage on Orb roads. Take it as a small favor old friend," the Emperor offered.

"Then it's settled. We will be taking our leave," Lord Zala said as he stood up. Athrun and Lord Clyne followed suit.

Back at the garden, the ladies were being caught up with the changes made to Orb. The peaceful setting. They were told about the changes within the society. There were no longer _eta_. Everyone who lived in the city were all samurai or faithful vassals. They were all treated as equals to a certain extent. The Divine City as it was called, deemed worthy of its name. But even it had its flaws. There were recent attacks made on the lives of the Imperial Ones. There were even assassination attempts in the past as well as several enormous clashes. All of which were covered so that the attackers could not be traced back. The Empress did not speak of the brunette as she was occupied with answering the questions of the elder noblewomen. Lady Lacus had brought up the subject she wanted to know the most about, but was abruptly cutoff with the arrival of the Emperor and the rest of the nobles. The serious look in their eyes had not diverged into gawking at the delicate scenery. It seemed they were too preoccupied with troublesome information. The Emperor was the only one who seemed serene at the arrival of the majestic area.

"Lenore we are going now," Lord Zala said briskly.

"Hai, wakarimasu," Lady Lenore replied obediently.

"So soon?" Empress Attha asked innocently.

"Gomen nasai Empress," Lady Lenore said.

"What about us dear?" Lady Clyne asked her husband.

"You are allowed to stay if you want, all of you are," Emperor Attha chimed in. The rest of the people nodded agreement.

"Arigatou gozaimasu," Lady Clyne replied.

"Does she have to go so soon Lord Zala?" Empress Attha asked almost pleading for her to stay.

"_Iýe_, if you wish Empress, she can stay here," Lord Zala offered, "Come to think of it. It seems better if we were to leave her in your hands. She will be safe here in Orb I presume."

"Yes of course," Emperor Attha said.

The overpowering scenery won over the tension and problems of the world as it relieved everyone. They enjoyed the peaceful silence for a drawn out moment. Staring at the pond, full of life. The little girl picking up the flowers that were dropped by the sakura trees. The running of the water dribbled on and on. Birds were chirping overhead. The darkened sky became illuminated by the lit paper lanterns lining the pathway and brightened the garden. They were interrupted in their momentary reverie by the rustling of the flowered doorway. The bluish purple blossoms moved out of the way gracefully with a hand guiding them aside gently. The nobles were once again silenced as a familiar figure emerged.

His violet eyes were concentrated on the girl playing with the fish. His face adorned with a small smile.

"Mayu-chan," Kira called softly.

"Kira-kun!"

"You forgot this," he said drawing out something from the innards of his cloak.

She gasped awaiting her surprise. Kira brought out a small bundle of white petal sakura and placed it in her awaiting hands. She smiled happily while placing the flowers away and hugging the older boy.

"You be good okay?" Kira asked kindly receiving a nod in compliance.

The Empress had walked over to the boy and smiled warmly as she grasped the small hand of the girl. "She is always good, Kira-kun," she smiled noting the time of day.

"Oyasumi nasai Mayu-chan," Kira said warmly.

"Oyasumi nasai Kira-kun," Mayu said before being being led back into the donjon.

Kira turned to the nobles and walked up considerately towards the Emperor.

"Sumimasen for interrupting Uzumi-sama. I forgot to tell you that the samurai you requested are ready to leave by dawn. Goodnight," he said turning to leave. While he was turning to leave, the scabbard of his sword had freely flown out of his garment. The familiar _saya_ had the same coloured mix of vibrant blue and scarlet red. It was unmistakable that it was the same sword he used to save them before. But something was missing. A rush of silent gasps enveloped the nobles. Was he armed with the long sword all this time? They all asked themselves.

The Emperor smiled at his retreating form. Once he was out of view, Lord Zala spoke up once again.

"Emperor, the boy was armed!" Lord Zala declared, "That is an unmistakable sign of disrespect. Did I not warn you that he could take your life if he so wishes?"

"He does not wish to take my life, nor will he ever,"

"You cannot guarantee that Your Highness, please have him commit _seppuku_ at once Sire."

The nobles just blankly looked on. They were almost tired of having their emotions twisted on this day on more than one occasion. But they would soon learn that the day was yet to end.

"I have told you once before Lord Zala. He will not kill me, and I will not have him commit suicide."

"Sire, he is not even samurai! Why do you protect him?"

"You are still blind Lord Zala. But you are right in a way. Even so, I cannot detain him from his sword. I will not tell you the reason why, you will have to find out yourself. However, if I ever were to want him to commit suicide, I do not have that power vested in me to do so."

All were bewildered.

There was nothing out of reach of the power of the Imperial One.

They all looked at him confused.

"Kira is not a true samurai--he is _ronin_," the Emperor started, "He was deemed one ever since you have denounced him cordially Lord Clyne. And now, the only Lord he has sworn allegiance to . . .

is his heart."

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	8. Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

The day was dead. The shadows fully grown. The moon was alive and in full circle. The bright white light contrasted magnificently over the stark overcast. Orb Castle was still quite a mesmeric city, perhaps even more eminent in the night. The cleared skies showed off the apex of _Fuji-san_. The homes of many villagers were lit brightly by candles behind the partly translucent shoji. Paper lanterns guided the path of the main road. The city was well alive while at the same time silent. The carefree mood lingered in the chilly air contagiously. An ominous breeze bristled past an opening main gate.

Lord Zala and Athrun walked up to the large gate. The creaking sound of the iron screeching audibly throughout the entire city. Several shoji slid open to reveal peeking eyes while some lights burned off. The two samurai led their horses by the reigns and were prepped to leave. They were already told that Waltfeld-san had already gone ahead to Zaft alleviating some stress from them, but they knew they were needed. They treaded slowly past the front gate and stopped to turn around. They began exchanging farewells to the nobles who had all seen them out including the Emperor, who was drowned in his own thoughts seemingly looking off to the distance. Lenore kissed her son a farewell causing a momentary flash of casualness. The mellowed look quickly disappeared as soon as it appeared. They were about to saddle their horses until they followed the averted gaze of the Emperor.

The Imperial One's fierce eyes softened a bit at the object of his attention. A small breath of air escaped his lips as he thought about the past. He often thought. There were just some things that were inexplicable or not meant to be understood.

Curious, all the nobles followed after his gaze. An audible gasp escaped their lips as they noticed what exactly the Emperor was looking at. They were greeted with quite a surprise.

Leaning against the large stone and iron fortified wall was a peculiar figure. A thin white blanket was spread over the majority of the body, hardly shielding out the crisp spring breeze. The body was slowly moving up and down. A pile of messy brown hair draped over the head of the figure. Several locks of hair was pushed aside by the wind while the black bandana fluttered about compliantly. One black gloved hand tightly gripped on the hilt of a sheathed sword. The scabbard tip partly buried in the earth while a swirling aura seemingly emanated from the bundled form. It was well alive. It was sleeping.

It was Kira.

The nobles were about to ask what he was doing there, but had been abruptly cut off hearing the sound of a galloping horse. They all turned to see who it was and the nobles were once again surprised.

A familiar head of green hair was riding towards them swiftly. The rest of his body was covered with a cloak similar to Kira's. A small smile was on his lips as he recognized the visitors looking at him. He waved to them warmly, breaking the surprised looks. When he had reached the main gate, he unsaddled the horse gracefully landing next to Athrun.

He sent a warm smile to friend that he had not seen for awhile. Athrun returned the gesture after recovering briefly.

"Hello Athrun, it's nice to see you once again."

"Nicol, what are you doing here?" Athrun asked.

"Since your messages have not been getting through, I am sure you all were not informed about Nicol here," the Emperor decided to step in, "He has become an Orb citizen recently and enlisted as a part of the special operations team."

"Is that so?" Athrun asked aloud.

"Hai, Athrun. I have been trying to send you all of several messages including . . ." Nicol trailed off seeing the object that had come to mind.

The nobles noticed the direction of his eyes, and could only guess that he was talking about Kira. More questions started pricking their minds as they would have to get reacquainted with Nicol. They needed answers and it seemed he would be able to provide some. An abnormal silence drifted upon the area as the nobles were once again drifting into another world.

Before they lost themselves in their questions, Lord Zala had broken the silence.

"We must leave for Zaft now," he said simply.

"Hai, Chichi-ue," Athrun concurred.

"Matte Lord Zala," the Emperor broke in once again. The sound of a running horse made its way to their location. Fierce crimson eyes saddled the beast. "Shinn will accompany you on the main roads of Orb. I know he is a bit rough on the edges, but you will know that he is quite an adept samurai."

Shinn reigned his horse near the Zalas and gave out an audible 'keh'. He loathed being assigned such a trivial mission. He often thought about what he would do if he wasn't assigned specific orders. The part about it he disliked the most was that he had to accompany a certain _daimyo_ that he would jump at the chance to slice his head right off of his shoulders. But, he was convinced by the person he thought the most who should have wanted his head cutoff. Kira had told him about the story of his life impartially once before as they had come to grow as close comrades, but Kira always puzzled him. Why was he never filled with hatred in his heart? The life he lived certainly gave him that right. So why?

He remembered the conversation they had after thanking him for giving his little sister a dress she always wanted, but Shinn could never afford. Samurai salaries weren't really extravagant and Shinn was very similar to Kira and Mayu. Except the personalities. They could never take a single koku from the Imperial family that had warmly took them in, when they were in need.

"Kira, why do you treat them as if they had not done anything to you?" Shinn asked Kira. Baffled by his actions. He knew Kira was a kind man, but he still didn't understand him.

"That is not important Shinn. They are not the enemies," Kira reasoned.

"B-but!"

"They have not attacked us nor have they attacked Orb. That itself makes them not the enemy. Neh?"

"But they abandoned you! They treated you like shit! Why can't you see that?"

"Shinn. They had not abandoned me. Remember, it was my choice that I decided to do what I did. I was but a servant, and they had treated me well. They were kind enough to take me in and when I became of no use, well, then the rest is the past. Everyone has their reasons for doing things Shinn . . ."

Shinn shook off the thoughts as he wanted this mission to finish as soon as possible. He knew the reason why Kira seemed so empty at times and why he was exactly the way he was. But it still confused him. It did not take his vision to note that Kira was sleeping by the gate like he had always done ever since that fateful day. There were things more important though, and he wanted to get this mission over with.

"Let's go," he ordered, inciting an flash of irritation on Lord Zala. This trip was not going to be a pleasant one, that was for sure. They just hoped no bloodshed would come out of it.

The Emperor smiled warmly, knowing that it would good for Shinn to get out of the Castle and see what the world had to offer. Uzumi knew about his tragic past and the reason why he became so arrogant on the outside. He just hoped Stellar would thaw him back to the kind boy he used to be. He still was, though not openly.

Dark clouds had gathered forebodingly. It seemed that a storm was soon coming. The lights in the heavens were beginning to dim, while the moon dominated throughout. It was covered by the clouds though, forming a somber setting.

A cold crisp breeze chilled everyone in the front of the gate.

A swarm of metal glinted projectiles flew through the air.

Shock had swept through the ranks of everyone.

It was an ambush.

With their lives on the line, the highly skilled samurai had quickly drawn out their swords. Lord Zala, Lord Clyne, Athrun, Nicol, deflected the shuriken that yearned to imbed themselves on their skin. Their swords clinging to each threatening four-tip bullet. They were all angered by the cowardly surprise attack, but something seemed amiss. To their dismay, they soon noticed what it was.

They all looked behind once the barrage of death subsided. Horror struck just as quickly as the change of events.

The concentration of shuriken was not aimed to take their lives.

Rather, it was to take the life of the Emperor.

A dense shroud of shuriken had been thrown directly at the Emperor. All laced with poison at the tips. The Emperor had bravely fought back against the attack. He was winning. His skill was still incredibly honed, accustoming his Highness. Then it all changed.

The Emperor was outraged and momentarily stunned.

Shuriken were thrown at the ladies.

Lady Clyne, Lady Lenore, and Lady Lacus were awaiting their deaths bravely. They knew they could not escape from this point. They were defenseless and completely caught off guard. The whirling messengers whished at them at an incredible pace. The Emperor had turned to help them, but the Ladies called out to him telling him to defend himself. It was too late though. The brief loss of concentration had dulled his senses to an oncoming last shuriken whizzing by at high speeds. He was caught between saving himself and the ladies and had over thought the matter by a split second that cost dearly.

The swirling deaths drew closer and closer.

The Emperor was not able to save himself nor the ladies.

Death came but an inch of their faces.

But it never came.

A cloak was thrown over the ladies, covering them of the poison tipped projectiles. The speed that whirled by them was quick enough to rival that of the gods. A glint of crimson red exuded from a metal blade. It formed a whirling arc that left a trail behind from the velocity it unleashed. A swift slash cut right through the last remaining shuriken headed for the Emperor. All were equally astonished for a fleeting moment.

Darkened lavender eyes opened abruptly gazing at the night's surroundings. With the blazing speed, the stark figure dashed across the darkened plains. Heads of ninja were cutoff briskly and effortlessly. The figure swiftly climbed the wall and dispatched the remaining ninja on the roof of the gate. The whirling arc was aggressive and merciless. He sheathed the crimson stained sword noiselessly after having wiped off the blade with a piece of fabric. He looked at the darkened sky longingly for a brief moment. Then, he descended onto the Emperor's side just as quickly.

A thankful look was sprawled across the Emperor's face.

"Would this make the seventeenth time you have saved me, neh Kira-kun?" he smiled at the boy.

"Eighteenth," Kira replied in jest smugly. The Emperor smiled a bit. "It is time for you to go inside now, Uzumi-sama."

"Yes, of course."

Kira turned to the bewildered noble ladies.

Kira's entire form was revealed. He was wearing a predominantly black _shinobi_ outfit that fit tightly around his body. It seemed the years trained him well as his muscles had shown right through the tight garment. Lines of blue and scarlet ran down the uniform matching the sword's appearance. He had a special obi that ran across the waist like any other, but was tied in the front with two appendages sticking out. The belt was of a lighter colour and only one scabbard was placed inside of it. His feet wore a matching black tabi shoes that hardly made a sound. It seemed he felt quite comfortable with the attire. The stares of those who had not known about Kira recently were quickly averted as he picked up his torn cloak. He wore the mantle once more and it was enough to cover most of his body, though spots of black could be seen from his attire.

"You should all join him," he recommended in a calm voice. His blackened lavender eyes tried to avert a particular figure. But he failed. Some thing that rarely happened. His eyes immediately relinquished the darkness and momentarily softened. He was still caught up just by the site of _her_. But he could not let himself think of such things any further. There was just some things that could never change.

Thankfully, Lady Clyne had grasped the attention of the other ladies and led them inside the gate.

Lacus looked back before she turned to go. She couldn't help but think about _him_. He would always find a way into her mind. She always wondered why that was.

Kira turned to the men who were to depart.

He simply nodded at Shinn.

Athrun and Lord Zala were hesitant to depart at first seeing the danger of the night. They saw Lenore waving them off a farewell and her eyes beckoned them to go. They were after all, needed in Zaft.

The Zalas had gathered themselves and Shinn led the way. His horse was strapped with the Imperial flag that granted safe passage that needed to be respect by every _daimyo_ throughout the land.

Kira had sat back down after their departure. His lavender eyes stared absently at the dark sky. His form curled up once again. He reverted into the same posture as before. His senses still well tuned into the environment. He sensed the danger of the ninja immediately and hoped against hope that they were not attackers. He was proven wrong once more though. One of the many lessons he learned. He returned into a light sleep as his body was aching in exhaustion from his trip and the growing darkness. Kira was long before taught how to remain alert while rest at the same time. Another lesson amongst the many that he would never forget. Could never forget.

Nicol smiled sadly. He knew how Kira was and ordered for the guards to close the gate. Before the gate moved, he stopped in his actions. He smiled.

A thin blanket draped across Kira's back.

Kira looked up to see kind looking into him. Trying to figure him out. She would have eventually succeeded if he did not turn around and waved her off in forced indifference.

Before Lacus got the signal, she saddened a bit. She wanted to know what was going on in Kira's mind so badly that it hurt her just to think about it. Her eyes were quickly trying to decipher what it was she had seen before. When Kira broke the gaze, she knew she could no longer press on. She turned to leave and walked in slow sullen steps until a soft voice spoke.

"Arigato . . ." Kira barely audibly said. His voice was kind and warm. Just like how Lacus had remembered when they were young.

Lacus smiled a small smile and whispered back, "Thank you . . ."

Kira turned around curiously at her words. He was caught off guard. His mind had finally registered the whole of Lacus' visage. She was beautiful. Her kimono was simple yet it was very elegant. The dress fit her perfectly. Purple and gold streaks lined the hem while a light shade of rouge adorned the whiteness of the dress. Her pale skin looked incredible with the white dress. Bundles of purplish pink flowers were imprinted in the dress. The purplish white obi perfectly draped across her thin waist. Her long pink locks were untied and flowed freely. She had grown more mature and ever more alluring in the past year he had not seen her, if that was even possible.

It took a good moment for Kira to ask his question. Lacus had already begun to walk back to the gate. Her soft footsteps fading away with ever step.

"For what?" he asked.

Lacus momentarily stopped in her tracks. She smiled and bit her lip. She continued to walk as if she hadn't heard his question, but she did.

Kira looked down into the darkened ground. For a moment, he thought he knew why. But the girl puzzled him. Very much.

He shook the thoughts aside as he turned his gaze onto the sky that began to lighten just a bit.

He drifted off into a light sleep once again.

A small smile was planted on his lips.

"Well, I believe it is time for you all to rest as well," Uzumi said to the noblewomen who were all but tired. They were mostly riled up to the pinnacle as a multitude of questions swarmed them just like the metal blades. They were compliant though. "I am sure you are all tired from your journey and the events today." Uzumi's reasoning had suddenly dropped their activity levels. They were a bit tired. Lady Clyne and Lady Lenore had resigned to giving Nicol the look that told him to explain in the morning. Nicol smiled back uneasily, knowing that he could not escape the inevitable. He sighed in defeat as he turned his attention back to the men guarding the gate. He signaled to them quietly. But he was unaware of another presence.

The large iron gate began to close noisily. The creaking shrill of the heavy door seemed unbearable for the untrained ear to discern when sleeping. The large noise had begun to slow down, Nicol was very much confused at the notion. It abruptly stopped halfway.

Uzumi had called for the gate to stop.

His wife had come by.

She had smiled warmly at bewildered Nicol and welcomed him. Nicol warmly greeted her after recovering. She was certainly a kind lady and she would be pleased with the news that he brought. The Empress had pardoned her audience with Nicol and walked outside the gate. Her soft footsteps were inaudible even for the trained ear.

Her warm hand had touched the shoulder of the sleeping boy. His eyes fluttered open as he turned to look into the Empress' warm eyes. Her mysterious effect already taking hold of him. He knew what she wanted, and she didn't have to ask. Kira got up and smiled in defeat.

"Hai Lady Attha," Kira turned to go to where he slept. The Empress had kindly asked him many a time to stop his incessant need to patrol the gates. She even offered Kira her room if he had wished so that he could get some sleep. But Kira was Kira and declined the offer. They had reached an uneasy compromise to where he would sleep.

"Oyasumi nasai," Kira said softly.

The kind woman smiled back.

Kira walked back inside the gates with the Empress by his side.

Kira continued walking down the main road until he diverged into a small pathway. It seemed he knew the entire place by heart as his eyes were closed seemingly walking in his slumber.

The Empress stopped by the green-haired boy. She smiled warmly, "Nicol, please take them to their rooms." Turning to the befuddled noblewomen, "Everyone needs their rest, neh?" She turned to head in the direction where Kira went as the noblewomen were led back to the castle by the Emperor and Nicol.

Lacus was settled in a lavish room about four stories high. Situated in the middle was a thick set of blankets and a cushioned pillow of the best quality. The inviting warmth had made several appeals to her tired body. But she could not sleep. Her eyes were focused outside of the window shoji. She was looking at Kira.

Kira was sleeping under the shade of a tree. It was a sakura tree. The flowers had yet to blossom, but the familiar buds were still there. The white blanket was sprawled over him. He was in the same position as before. His back leaned on the trunk of the small tree for support. His hand on the hilt of his sword. There was something else by his side that seemed to be quite peculiar. Lacus couldn't tell what it was, but from afar it seemed to be a book. Lacus wondered about all the things that could have happened to him. What made him change. His hands were tainted with the blood of many, and yet there seemed to be no signs of regret. Just duty.

But there was something else about him. From the naked eye, he seemed to be happy. He seemed to have a positive impact on those that knew him. Mayu. Shinn. Stellar. Nicol. The Empress. And even the Emperor. He was strong, courageous, and respectful. He was just like any other person. Though there were clearly many differences, he was just like any other person.

From the distance, Lacus swore she saw a small streak of liquid form down his face. Was he crying?

She had seen glimpses of the true him whenever her eyes caught onto his mesmeric amethyst gaze. She did not know what exactly it was. But she knew one thing for sure.

She wished she could be by his side.

Deep down, she could barely tell what his mind had gone through.

He was sad.

Lonely.

Afraid.

And hurt.

Was he crying? She asked herself again.

Her thoughts almost drowned her out until the shoji to her room opened.

A figure entered the room noiselessly.

"Lacus-chan," said a soft voice.

It was the Empress.

"Hurry up bastard," Shinn called out arrogantly. Lord Zala grunted in response. His patience was running faster than his horse. If not for the matters at hand, Lord Zala would have long pushed him over the cliff that they were on. Sometime during the trip, Shinn had opted for them to take one of the shortcuts that he knew about, seeing as how they were all urgent to get to where they had to go. The stark night made the shortcut very dangerous, but Shinn was always one to risk chances.

Lord Zala didn't complain a bit seeing as how the shortcut meant lesser time for him to be around the arrogant child. If he wasn't so close to the Emperor, Patrick would have long threw him over the edge without remorse. But much as he would like to, he could not.

Shinn had practically ignored Athrun along the way. Shinn was not disrespectful to him but he showed no signs of respect as well. The reason for his indifference was because the blue-haired boy was a good friend of Kira's. And to Kira, he still was. Shinn thought about the many conversations he had with Kira and many of them were about the noble families. He looked back at one of the members of the Zalas.

His eyes went wide.

Athrun's horse took one fateful step on the edge of the narrow cliff. Athrun's lips had moved but no sound came out. In a controlled distraught, Athrun fruitlessly tried to regather the beast he was in control of. Unfortunately, the fragile portion of the rock broke within the strong hoof of the horse turning them both over and sent him flying into the abyss below.

"Dammit," Shinn said. Shinn had yet to fail a mission, and he wasn't about to start now. He reigned his horse and began to gallop back down the narrow passage. He was stopped abruptly though.

"Iýe," Lord Zala said conclusively. Shinn's eyes questioned the _daimyo_. Was he hearing things right? "We must get to Zaft by sunset. No matter the costs."

"Nandayo?" Shinn asked. What the hell.

"Let's go boy," Lord Zala said.

"That is your own son down there. Do you not care about him at all? My mission was to escort you both to Zaft," Shinn reasoned.

"Never mind him you fool. Your mission was to get to Zaft. There's no use in going back for him. He knows his duty," Lord Zala shot back as he began making his way across the cliff. He did not even look back once.

Shinn reluctantly followed. He took one last glance over the edge of the cliff and noticed a deep thickly forested area. Shinn rationalized that Athrun was samurai, and if he was a real samurai, he would do just fine. Besides, Kira had always talked so highly about him. This would be a fine test to see if Athrun was indeed samurai. After all, Shinn only believed in what he saw. Shinn hoped he wouldn't die though. After resigning to leave fate up to destiny, he quickly commanded his horse and caught up with the _daimyo_ that he would have rather fell of the cliff.

Athrun's fall had been broken by several branches. The impact of the landing was enough to stun him momentarily, but his wounds were not very serious. During the fall, he managed to unsheathe his sword and stabbed skillfully at the bulk of a large tree, slowing down his fall. His horse suffered the worser of the two plunges. After recovering, Athrun staggered over to the fallen beast, and was relieved that it was still alive. It was unconscious, but at least his fastest way back to Zaft was not dead.

Athrun had survived through worser situations and he was accustomed to things going bad for him. He was glad that he learned survival tactics from training and real life situations. He would have to find a way out until his horse recovered. He did not mind being alone in the ominous forest. Being alone was something he was quite accustomed to. He would have more concentration on trying to find a way out for himself and more importantly, he would have some time alone of thinking about the recent events that transpired. He knew about the rumours that circulated around Zaft and the whole of Nihon about a certain killing monster. He had brushed them aside before reasoning that he knew Kira well enough for it to not be him, but as of late he was getting doubts. But he knew he was glad to see him alive and well nonetheless, and had wanted to talk to him, but duty called over that wish. Athrun knew he had to get out of the forest quickly. He knew he had to get back to Zaft. And he knew that he would be seeing Kira sometime down the future.

What he didn't know was that he was not alone.

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	9. Chapter 9

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Chapter 9

The stark forest made vision almost impossible. If not for the small lights in the skies, Athrun would have been completely lost by now. His survival instinct working in full motion, he strategically made his way through the trees clearing a path with his sword. Every tree he passed was scarred with the blade, marking his way back and forth from his locations. He was carrying a pack of emergency food and other supplies that was equipped on his horse as by standard.

Athrun was lost in thought while searching for a way out. The tall grass had laid victim to his unforgiving footsteps and absent-minded hacks and slashes. He thought about many things. He remembered the trials he had after having spent a whole month in another forest training for survival, yet at the same time trying to survive. He had retreated into the woods to avoid confrontation against the reinforced battalion of EA soldiers at a village nearby Orb. Athrun was ordered to gather intelligence in the area, but one thing led to another and an all out battle had broken out in the village.

His trusted comrades were with him every step of the way. Miguel, Rusty, and Heine had become his close friends in the army after Nicol's abrupt departure. All were top-notch samurai. All had the same reasons for joining the battle with him. They needed to protect Zaft. He could not recall the name of the village but he knew one thing. It was supposedly a neutral village that was controlled by a sphere of influence casted by Orb. Zaft intelligence reported some shady events in the area, linking Orb to EA. It was confirmed when a stash of barbarian weapons were found. They were all labeled for shipment to Rodina, an important port of the EA lands, where many barbarians were rumoured to have docked. In the end, Heliopolis went up in flames.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't sense the oncoming danger.

From the bushes came a swift whirling arc. Athrun regained his senses quickly but was too late in blocking the devastating blow. He parried it with Aegis, but the full force of the attack caused his loose grip to let go of his blade. The tip of the opposing sword was pointed directly at him. It warned him not to pick up his blade. The assailant had kicked away his sword farther into the distance. With a swift jump to the side, Athrun hid for cover behind the trunk of a tree. Barely dodging the whirling arcs of death.

His breathing hard and rugged.

He snatched his wakizashi from his obi and stared directly at the heart of his assailant. An awkward moment passed by as he tuned completely into the source of the assault. He was met with a fierce determined look in the eyes of the attacker. A brash attack soon followed after forcing Athrun to retreat further into the bushes.

He was amazed at the persistence, but he could not afford to spend anymore time in this place. A fierce determined look glazed in his eyes, matching that of the assailant.

He would not be cut down in a place like this.

After regaining his composure he sought a vantage point to counterattack his assailant. The attacker cleverly retreated over to his katana. It kneeled down over his trusted sword and picked it up. A studying amber gaze looked over the weapon. A moment of distraction turned into a fateful blunder.

Athrun seized the opportunity as his chance to counterattack as he swiftly glided back over to her assailant. With a overhead kick, he managed to disarm the assailant's sword and grasped the sword arm viciously. Causing a sharp pain through his assailant who writhed in pain trying desperately to escape his clutches.

Athrun effortlessly flipped the attacker over. The force of the impact disarming the attacker of his Aegis. He saddled the assailant over and poised his wakizashi for the killing blow. He raised the blade overhead readying his thrust.

Just about when he was ready to strike, the assailant had screamed for life.

Athrun held the blade steady over his head. The writhing body beneath him had its eyes closed. The short messy blonde hair sprawled across the green grass. After a while, it finally noticed that death did not seep into its body. Slowly, the right eye began to opened slowly revealing a beautiful shade of amber.

Athrun's eyes lightened in surprise.

"A girl?" he asked.

His hand gripped the hem of the _male_ kimono tightly. He felt the beating of her heart and the heaving of her chest which confirmed his suspicion. He had noted that under the clothes were the bosom of a female.

He began to recede from his poised to kill form. Slowly backing away and letting go of the grasp he held on her kimono. His emerald eyes never once breaking from eye contact with the baffled amber orbs.

The sounds of the forest broke through the veil of silence. The chirping of awakened birds ceased to never end. The bustling of leaves and tree branches caused a small raucous. Other wildlife began to stir, signaling the coming of new day.

Athrun skillfully unhooked the blade of the sword that was meant to kill him. It was a standard sword, though he did not know if it was Orb's or EA's. He threw the disjoined blade and handle into a nearby pond he found while on his quest to find a way out. The woman that attacked him was carefully bounded by rope. He didn't know what to do with her at first. Her attack was surely vicious and determined, if he had been any less of a samurai, he surely would have been defeated. He figured disarming her of her sword would be enough for now. A small splash in the water drowned out the sword, and Athrun took her small sword as well. He was wondering why exactly this girl seemed to be so comfortable in men's gear. Didn't she like the fancy female kimonos better?

He shook off the thoughts, they wouldn't do anything to change the outcome of the war. But why did it take him so long to reason that? The fatigue must be draining on him too much, he thought.

"You . . . Are you really a soldier of EA?" he asked the first of his questions. "Your kimono is not EA, and your sword isn't either. I've never heard a scream like that in war before," he said. His mind thinking that he had never seen a girl like her in war before as well.

"Well, excuse me then," she replied with a small blush.

"What are you doing here anyway?" he asked.

"None of your business," she replied sharply.

"Are you an EA samurai? Who are you with?" he pressed on.

"I'm not an EA samurai. I'm with . . ." she trailed off, wondering if she should tell him why exactly she stumbled into the forest.

"I ran here to get away from some people," she continued, telling part of the truth. She tried to get into a better position.

"Oh."

The boy watched her struggle and then turned to leave indifferently. He packed his equipment and began to move away.

"You're one of those Zaft insurgents aren't you?" she spoke aloud.

Athrun turned back to her in intrigue.

"The ones that went to Heliopolis!"

"Heliopolis?" Athrun asked faintly remembering the name.

"I was there when it happened, in the village that you guys destroyed!"

Oh, so that was it huh? Athrun thought. The village was not supposed to go up in flames, but it was their fault.

Athrun managed to drag her back to where his horse lay resting. She had not gone quietly, despite her disadvantageous position.

A flash of bluish white lined the skies. Almost hitting a tree. A crackling sound soon followed. A moment of frenetic raucous ran amuck through the forest. Every animal frieghtened from the oncoming storm.

Athrun noticed the woman trying to crawling her way towards his Aegis. The sword was placed on a small hill overlooking the stream that led to the pond. Her efforts were futile yet she stubbornly tried. Her footing lost grip at the thunderous roar of the sky, causing her to tumbl into the nearby stream. The cloudy skies released their tears. She found herself struggling to untie herself from her bindings, but to no avail. The flowing water tried to overrun her as she found herself struggling for air this time.

Her eyes closed to stop the rush of water from seeping into them. She felt no droplets of water brush against her skin, and curious she opened her eyes. The man that she had tried to kill covered her over peering down with his half-amused emerald eyes. What was he laughing about? She asked herself.

"Hey . . . What are you doing?" he asked.

"What does it look like?" Baka. She added in her mind.

He looked at her dumbly as if he had not just heard her.

"Don't just stand there, hurry up and help me!" she commanded.

"I don't think you're in a position to be telling me what to do," he remarked.

Athrun helped her onto her feet by grasping her shoulders. Her wet hair trapped a carp that fluttered helplessly about, desperately trying to find its home. It managed to wobble onto his forearm before abruptly falling down. It made a tiny splash falling into the stream. He stared at the girl's amber eyes. He had to admit they were very pretty.

Athrun couldn't help but chuckle. He had never stopped to look at wildlife before.

"What's so funny about a little fish?" she inquired.

"You'll have to excuse me . . . I don't have much experience with these sort of things."

"Aren't there fish in every pond, lake or ocean?" she retorted.

She took the opportunity to hop over to a clearing in the forest.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"I'm taking the opportunity to wash myself off," she answered turning back to the boy. "I'm still covered in dirt."

Athrun stared at the girl. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was just something about her. She was different. From every other girl that he had ever met. She frolicked in the rain, enjoying the natural bath. Were women suppose to enjoy these things?

He smiled an indifferent smile. Some thing he has learned to do over the years, never give out your feelings. Feelings betrayed you.

He walked up behind the girl and with his small sword, he cut off her bindings. He stared back at the baffled girl. He turned around to walk away, he had found a small cave nearby his fall, and he would have to use it as a makeshift shelter.

"Even if you attack me, without a weapon you won't stand much of chance," Athrun said. He sheathed his wakizashi back in its saya skillfully and continued to walk until she spoke up.

"What did you say?" she asked angrily.

Geeze. What is up with this girl? Athrun asked.

"I think there are more fish in your clothes," Athrun asked. Careful not to incite too much rage from her. Why did he find himself thinking thoughts like these? He started questioning himself.

The girl raised her kimono over revealing her feminine features. A small carp fell out. Athrun took a glimpse, he did not see the fish.

He blushed a rare blush. Some thing he had not done until the first day he met Lacus. He had almost forgotten. He was not unfaithful, was he? Athrun shook the thoughts out of his head and headed for the cave, with his horse in tow. She soon followed.

The night was soon to pass. The cracks of light started seeping out of the blackened skies. The tears stopped falling.

Athrun found himself in a cave with the feisty girl, wrapped in his sleeping sheets. Her clothes had been dampened, so Athrun found himself having to stay and wait out the morning. The forest still had its troubles in the dark. Another reason was stubbornly making its way into his mind, but he shook off the thoughts.

"Here," he said, startling the blonde. He carried a small bento box made by his mother, who had always packed food for her son. She had been a kind woman, and had even offered to pack lunches for many of the soldiers. It was of the typical four parts of rice, three parts of fish, two parts of vegetables, and one part of dessert.

The small fire the Zaft soldier made danced in her auburn burning eyes playfully. Her clothes and shoes were placed near the fire. She returned into her deep thought, ignoring the boy.

"Even if they're Zaft's, rations are rations," Athrun offered kindly, bewildering the still speechless girl. How could he be so nice all of a sudden? She thought, eyeing him a bit suspiciously. He placed the food beside her since she was unwilling to move. "You lost your rations here, right?" he said, startling the girl. She blushed from being caught staring at the handsome boy suspiciously, though he only offered his food.

She picked up the small lunch and bashfully ate. She was still aware of the emerald eyes that looked at her.

"What about you?" she asked.

The boy responded by taking out several _onigiri_ hidden in the waist of his kimono. He started to eat the triangular shaped rice balls, while sipping _cha_ that he took out from his bag. The girl proceeded to eat the food and found the taste very similar to the bento boxes she had always eaten.

She noticed the distant gaze the boy had given off looking at his sword. She could tell that he was a very special boy, he was unlike any of the normal samurai she had often encountered. There was some thing else about him. She couldn't exactly figure it out.

The boy had seemed tired in gathering tossing wood into the fire. His emerald eyes mirroring the intense burning flames.

"Y-you aren't going to tie me up?" she asked. He looked up at her. "If I see an opportunity and take your sword, the situation will be under my control."

"If that happens, you'll look stupid," he answered calmly. He broke into a fit of concealed laughter.

"What are you laughing at?" she asked angrily. She figured it out. He was unusually pissing her off more, without having backed down.

"Well, you never give up, do you?" he asked, still in a composed manner. He stared at the burning fire. "If you even try to steal the sword, I will have no choice but to kill you." She became startled at the seriousity of his tone. She knew his threat was to not be taken so lightly. "So don't even try it, okay?" he said. His emerald gaze still refracting from the glow of the fire. "You survived Heliopolis and this forest so far. Don't press your luck," he calmly said, turning the girl away from him.

Athrun looked back at his sword.

"At Heliopolis . . . we didn't plan for that to happen."

"What are you talking about?" she retorted. Her fierce auburn eyes gazing holes through him once more. "No matter how you try to justify it, the fact remains that you guys attacked and destroyed the village."

"And it's also a fact that Heliopolis was clearly sending barbarian weapons to EA while claiming they were neutral!" he retorted back. Momentarily weakening her resolve, which would not last very long. "We're only fighting to protect our lands, our homes. We just couldn't sit back and let them send those weapons to the EA!"

"It's the same here in EA!"

"Nani?"

"You guys were the ones who came here and screwed everything up for us!"

The cave started heating up. Burning emerald eyes stared past the fire. Burning auburn eyes stared past the flames as well. Deadlocked in a heated glaring match.

"Junius Five was taken over. All of Plant has fallen under the EA. Innocent people have been killed. Even children . . . Did you expect we'd do nothing?"

"Many of my friends were killed too! All because of your attacks!"

The both stared at each other. Intense fired still burning in their eyes.

"Let's stop this. It's not like talking with you here is going to change anything," the boy reasoned, shifting into a more comfortable position.

The girl got up from her seat and walked past the entrance of the small crevice. She looked into the moon trying to straighten her mind. When she turned back, the boy was slumped over.

"H-hey, are you going to sleep?" she asked, wondering if he was really serious in letting her have an advantageous position.

"No, of course not," he said while his tired eyes betrayed him. "But I had to mobilize right after we landed, and . . ." he fell into sleep.

The girl looked at his vulnerable position.

"He sleeps, leaving the enemy to roam free," she said to herself.

She had begun to wonder about the war. Her resolve starting to waver. She could not afford to do such a thing. She soon made up her mind.

She got up from her position and began to walk towards the slumbering boy. Her hand began to reach for the sword locked in his sash. She had hesitated momentarily, her thoughts drifting to his threat. Her hand drifted in the air, very close to the sword.

'If you even try to steal the sword, I will have no choice but to kill you.'

The cackling of the fire unceremoniusly erupted.

The emerald eyed boy stirred awake and looked at her disbelievingly. His mouth hanging open. She picked the sword of his sash and retreated backwards. The sheets falling over the bewildered soldier. She unsheathed the sword. The blade glimmered in crimson, obvious pungent smell of blood laced in the metal. She was right, from closer inspection, the sword was not standard. It seemed incredibly light to the touch, and the seraded edges were extremely sharp. The red handle seemed worn and battle proven.

"You!" he said recovering from the initial shock. He felt a tinge of betrayal and readed his short sword. Poised to follow through with the kill.

"I'm sorry!" she said. What? he asked himself, though his face did not show it, he was pretty surprised at the girl's audacity.

"I'm not going to kill you!" she said. Her voice cracking while shaking her head. "But Zaft is going to attack villages again, right?"

This time, his facade almost broke. It shifted a little, puzzled at what the girl was trying to say.

"I know Orb is to blame for helping the EA with barbarian weapons . . . but you're going to kill many more people with this sword, right?"

Athrun had long committed to such a trivial fact, as a custom to the ways of samurai, life and death were the same. The strong killed the weak, and the weak are killed by the strong. In war, death and life were the only outcomes. His reply was one of indifference.

"Then kill me. The one swinging that sword is me."

The girl's resolve seemed to weaken yet at the same time strengthen. Her honest eyes locked in a heated battle.

"I'm a Zaft samurai. I was entrusted with that sword. But if you try to kill me, then I'll have to kill you!" he said. His wakizashi firmly gripped sidewards in his right hand, his left hovering above poised to parry.

The girl's breathing became ragged. Her eyes leaking a liquid residue. A trickle of sweat ran both their faces.

Athrun readied his attack, lowering his weapon down. Baiting the girl to attack first. Their eyes still locked in a deadly gaze.

"Damn it!" she said, raising the sword above her head poised to attack. Athrun leapt for her, ready to kill, but the sword was released in mid air.

The blade clankered on the bed of the cave. It's metal shrieking as it settled on the floor. A tinge of blood dripped the side of the edge.

Athrun found himself perched atop the girl, bewildered by her actions once again.

"Who throws a sword like that!" he asked, his eyes full of surprise.

"S . . . sorry," she tried to apologize, her eyes filled with equal surprise.

"Geeze . . . What the hell are you . . . ?" he asked her, not expecting a response. He staggered upright and settled on the back of the wall tiredly. His exasperation both in mind and body showing clearly.

"No . . . well, umm . . ." she stuttered while looking the boy over.

She saw a small tear through his kimono, with a tinge of blood dripping.

"That . . . was it from--"

"It's nothing big," he interrupted. He got up to check his emergency bag for a patch to seal the wound.

"But, you should have it checked," she replied. Both were still unaware of the circumstances . . .

"You don't need to worry about," he argued.

"Here, I'll . . ." she got up to take the bag away from the boy.

"I can do it myself," Athrun almost whined, grabbing the bag from her grip.

"I said, I'll do it!" she defied, forcefully taking the bag once again.

"It's fine!" Athrun argued back, taking the bag back once again.

"Forget it. Let me do it!" she yelled back, violently taking the bag from his grasp. "If it's like this, I'll just keep being indebted to you," she said replying with the bag muffled slightly over her mouth. "Let me pay you back a little!"

Athrun's eyes softened a little. Now completely confused by this rebellious woman in front of him. His mind finally focused in on what she was wearing. Hardly anything, but a hiyoku. A silk layer of green under kimono that confirmed her feminity.

He observed her for an overextended moment, and turned away forcefully.

"Before that, won't you put on some clothes?"

The girl fell onto the floor, now aware of her clothing or lack there of. She covered the small bag over her body, while blushing madly.

"It looks like they're all dry now," he responded without looking at them. Hoping they were dry.

The girl looked at him confused, with a blush still stained on her cheeks. She looked over to her clothes, and then back to the boy who had left the cave.

After she changed, she had bandaged the man back with a long piece of cloth. The bleeding stopped, as the wound had already begun to heal.

The brilliant sun began to rise from it's slumber.

A part of the Castle's outer towers were occupied by eyes accustomed to early mornings. The window shoji showed two elderly men, looking around the Castle and the empty city. Worried thoughts were afloat in the room.

She should have been here already . . . Thought one of the men.

"Your Highness, where's he going?" the other man asked politely, pointing to a cloaked figure emerging out of nowhere. They both knew who it was. The Emperor let out a breath of relaxed tension. He no longer had to worry.

"He's going to where he is needed," the Emperor answered in his regular confusing ways. He turned to the confused man, waving him back to reality. The Emperor had been recently visited by one of his most trusted samurai.. The Emperor thought, he must have told him.

A tall, darkly tanned man with long flowing black hair had came by in the middle of the night. He had recently came from a trip of his own, as he allowed his men to take some well deserved rest. He was missing an important person along with him though.

"Where is my daughter?" the Emperor asked calmly, with a little trace of worry.

"I apologize Sire . . . she had escaped from my sight after we had a battle with a group of bandits," he said, keeping his eyes on the floor. He had been ashamed of himself for letting down the man that he believed in so greatly. He had been more ashamed after leaving the girl he was in charge over in danger.

"It's okay Kisaka-san," the Emperor said kindly. His fierce eyes lightening up a bit.

"But Sire . . ." Kisaka started.

He knew it was not the man's fault. "I am sure, she can take care of herself Kisaka-san. Remember, there is no need for formality," the Emperor admonished gently. He smiled beckoning the man to take some well deserved rest.

The Emperor snapped out of his reverie after noticing the questioning gaze of his guest.

"It's nothing Siegel-san," he replied.

"But, Your Highness--"

"There is no need to be so formal my friend. I am sure you have noticed the many changes around here," the Emperor said with a small absent smile on his face. His fierce eyes trailing the form of the quickly vanishing figure. He knew that it would be fine. When the figure passed the main gates, he turned around to his still bewildered guest.

"H-hai. Uzumi-san," Siegel answered reluctantly, still afraid of using such a informality with the Emperor.

He smiled in response. "Now, I am sure you have many questions on why Orb will not help Plant out."

"H-hai."

"I will say this once more. We have officially sent many letters concerning the status of Orb in the matter of war, that has spread across these lands once more. We are of a peaceful city now. We no longer believe in fighting pointless wars. That is the reason we cannot side with you, or EA. As your friend, I am sorry."

His gaze started trailing off as broke into another absent world. The two men walked into the town below. Samurai started pouring out of their dwellings, readying themselves after having politely bowed to the Emperor. The one named Shinn had bowed politely despite the glare he still gave Siegel.

"Uzumi-sama, did you want to see _that_ unit?" he asked politely.

"Hai, Shinn-kun."

"Right away," Shinn replied.

"But do you not contradict your own ways? We have noticed the many samurai here. All of which are readying for battle, why do you claim to be at peace when you are armed?" Siegel reasoned.

Legions of Orb samurai formed in front of their eyes.

"Take a good look in front of you Siegel-san, do you not recognize these men?" Uzumi asked with a small smile. Siegel shook his head in confusion, where was the Emperor getting to, he asked himself.

"Over half the samurai here are your people. Most of which have come back from your lands."

"Nani?" the bewildered _daimyo_ asked, his eyes straining out of their sockets.

"And all of them are volunteers," Uzumi remarked. "We know there is a need of strength in order to protect what is important to us. We are not blind at that simple fact. Though, as Orb, we cannot fight your wars, we welcome either sides. Orb is a nation of peace after all."

Siegel remained speechless. His eyes still trying to focus the samurai in front of him. One of the elder samurai stepped in front of the rest. Bowing respectfully to the Emperor and the daimyo. Siegel recognized the man after having looked at him carefully.

"Marco-san?" he asked.

The man looked at his lord with a smiling face.

"Hai, Lord Clyne. We are the survivors of Junius Five. We came here and sought refuge which the Emperor had kindly given us," he said with a mix of mirth and sadness.

Siegel's bewildered look went from the samurai in front of him to the Emperor several times before he figured it out.

His mind reiterated what the Emperor said.

'As Orb, we cannot fight your wars . . . '

The fire had been put out. A calm breeze fluttered by. The risen sun illuminated the dark forest. A small path in the middle of the forest could be seen, some thing that had been hidden in the darkness of the night.

Two figures stood by, both on much better terms.

"It's time to go. I need to be heading back now," the boy spoke.

"Me too," the girl replied.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home . . ." she replied.

"I see . . ."

The girl stared absently at the sword named Aegis resting in his sash.

The boy stared at girl absently, still questioning the events of what happened. Still puzzled by the girl.

"Ja," she said, recovering first. Her feet had started her on the path opposite to where the boy was headed.

"You! You're not an EA samurai, right?" he asked worriedly, wondering if he should really let her go for several reasons.

"I'm not!" she replied from afar.

His thoughts began to wander off once more. The war had been spreading vastly, everyone seemingly engaged in battle.

"They're not even samurai and . . . everyone's . . ."

Athrun's mind wandered off to his close friend. He may have not showed it, but he was deeply affected by what had happened. What happened to him? He often thought.

He had killed so much, without a trace of regret. Athrun knew, that there was no way he could have been his meek, inocent and kind friend from the moment he saw the cloaked figure destroy the opposing army just that previous day.

What was it that he was fighting for? Athrun asked himself, lost in thought until a voice called him back to reality.

"I'm Cagalli!" she said, breaking him from his reverie, surprising him once more. "You're?"

"Athrun!"

Cagalli simply nodded. Her feet began to run in the direction where she had to go.

Athrun stared at her retreating form for a while. His mind was still confused by her. There was just some thing about her that he couldn't truly figure out. He turned to his horse. Saddled the beast and rode quickly out of the forest. He needed to make up for the time he had lost.

Cagalli had exited the forest. Much to her surprise, she saw a familiar dark horse. A familiar cloaked figure was saddled atop the beast.

"Kira!"

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

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* * *

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Chapter 10

Why are you still alive?

Kira's mind unconsciously questioned himself.

His entire being had an answer, but he was not sure of what exactly it was.

He felt it from his wet fingertips, to the top of his damp hair, and to the bottom of his murky toes.

The steady trickle of rain beat against the cold earth endlessly. Each damp droplet seemingly resonating harshly on deft ears. The sequestered land was covered in moist darkness. The moon of light shrouded in the midst of ominous clouds. Not a single source of light dotted the heavens. An ill omen. There was peace in the land

Leaning on the trunk of a withered tree, was a boy.

He was wearing a ragged kimono, though a significant improvement.

He was not samurai.

His sash was missing the swords that entitled such an honor.

It was.

Kira.

His frame balled into the trunk. His arms spread across atop of his knees. Lavender eyes hidden from view. His dripping wet hair cascaded down the front. His arms and feet were both bandaged, freshly patched while trickles of blood moistened them once more. He was all alone. In the still of the night, he found himself alone. Something he had grown accustomed to.

There were two sources of water dripping down from the heavens.

A chilly breeze cut through the rainy silence. Freezing everything in its path.

He was reminded of a time in his life, of the cold hard truth.

The unmistakable certainty behind all questions.

He was no longer confined to a vile jail cell. No longer deprived of food. No longer deprived of clothing. No longer beaten to the brink of death.

However.

There were things worse than encarceration. Worse than starvation. Worse than bareness. Worse than pain.

One of the many lessons he would soon learn.

It had several suns since he last smelled the fetid stench of the air lingering humidly over the wooden cell block. Though, those hellish nights remained a memory locked in his mind, that he could not forget. He could still feel the many wounds he had come to receive. The very snot ridden, dewy earth bathed in mud and slime could still be felt on the tips of his toes. He was not at that awful place, but at the same time, he was there.

He was crying. The relentless splatter of water deftening his pleas.

His strength returned to him in no time. It seemed he had even gotten stronger. But that was a sick perversion of truth.

His tears fell to the floor. His gaze looking down ever so sadly.

His hands shaking in every passing moment.

In his kimono, was the the source of his pain.

He could not stop his tears from falling.

But his tears seemed to have been dry.

There were some wounds that were meant to never heal.

Wounds that went deeper than the skin, deeper than the senses, and deeper than the mind.

"Kira-kun . . ." a menacing voice started, emerging from the nowhere. Protected against the rain with a large straw conical hat. His face was hidden, but there was no mistaking who it was.

The violet eyes of the boy gazed upwards.

"Rau . . ." Kira said matching the low tone.

His head snapped back up to see the cause of his sadness.

A fierce look that could only bore holes gazed from his violet eyes. It caused a rare involuntary shudder of fear from the deranged samurai.

"You hate me. Good. You are starting to make progress already," the voice said.

"I do not hate you," Kira replied truthfully.

He did not hate him.

To Rau, the boy's gaze seemed fierce at first, but there was something about it.

He wondered what it was.

It seemed empty . . .

But how could that be?

The boy still puzzled him.

"You are still crying again, tsk tsk tsk, that's no good," Rau said with an evil laugh, regaining his composure.

A silence ensued. The harsh droplets of water steadily growing even louder.

"That will all change Kira-kun," Rau said confidently.

"I won't let it happen," Kira defied.

"That is not up to you," Rau said.

Silence. His violet gaze lightened. Was he right? Kira asked himself.

"You have yet to become samurai, but you have always wanted to become one, is that not right?" Rau said.

"Nani?" Kira replied, obviously bewildered. His questioning eyes looking at the blonde who revealed his face. The rain had stopped falling.

A small menacing chuckle escaped his lips.

"You lack the truthful meaning of the samurai. You lack the thrill of the kill. And most importantly, you lack the hatred in your heart."

Kira stared at him in silence. His resolve slowly beginning to waver and drift away. His eyes returning into a cold and empty glaze.

"That will all change very soon," Rau laughed menacingly.

Kira continued his empty gaze.

"To be samurai, is to kill. The purpose of the sword, is to kill. Hatred, is to kill."

Kira sat in silence. Seemingly unphased by what the maniac man had to say. After all, his hands were not stained.

"What you lack in mentality, you make up for your natural inhuman talent," Rau continued.

Kira contined to look right through him.

"You still wish to remain a merchant scum?"

Kira remained lifeless.

"Hmph," Rau said, a flash of irritation drawing into him. He recovered by placing that delirious look in his eyes once more.

Rau grabbed Kira, viciously yanking him onto his feet.

Out of his drenched kimono, fell two pieces.

It was his wakizashi.

Tori was broken in pieces.

"We will see about that."

"Mu ha ha ha . . ."

Rau's evil laugh reverberated in the passing of the silent night.

Kira would soon be broken.

His screams heard throughout the night. His pleas falling on deft ears.

By the rise of day, the screams had stopped.

Unhealable wounds would open.

The katana, called Strike, was placed back in his shaking hands.

The scabbard loosely tied onto his crimson sash. It would soon fall to the floor.

His body soon giving way.

Followed by the unmistakable crying, that continued from sun up, to sun down.

The dry tears would soon subside.

A promise sealing his eyes.

He questioned himself once more.

His mind still had the answer.

But what could it be?

* * *


End file.
